Poison and Wine
by tealtype
Summary: A collection of snippets about Sigyn and Loki and their relationship. AU Sigyn/Loki [discontinued]
1. Chapter 1

**disclaimer: I do not own Thor nor do I pretend to**

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><p><strong>1. Injury<strong>

Frigga stands apart from the rest, seeing her husband and sons off. Odin tells her not to worry, both in private and now, though his tone changes. He does not embrace his wife, rather hold her shoulders and promise that he will be safe.

She nods, watching him stride back, their sons following. Their young sons, she wishes to say but they have not been young for years.

Odin leads the warriors away, his sons on his heels. Frigga remains still, hands clasped, praying for the safety of them. Many have come to see them off, some wives of the soldiers, others citizens who wish to pay their respects.

Once the warriors have all but gone, the crowd had began to dissipate, returning to their lives. Frigga, though, remained, eyes still searching for her husband but when she can no longer see them, she steps back. There, she spies the remaining figure, a girl, cloaked, gray eyes watching the distance.

Frigga considers approaching, questioning but decides against it, assuming her a soldier's new bride.

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><p>When they return, Frigga restrains herself from embracing Odin. She smiles and tells him how she is pleased to see him. She watches for her sons, waiting to see their faces but does not let the disappoint show when they are no where to be seen.<p>

She asks Odin, her voice quiet for this is a public welcoming. He tells her that they went to the healer but assures her they are fine. She manages to wear a small smile when inside she wishes to run to them and see them herself.

She tears herself away when she can, taking short cuts to the healer. There she finds Thor being tended to for what she would consider scraps and bruises. He pulls himself away from the woman tending to his injuries to grin at his mother.

"My son," she says, kissing his forehead. "Where is your brother?" She looks, anticipating the scowl on Loki's face as someone tends to his injuries.

"He went to his chambers," he says, face becoming somber. Genuine concern, Frigga thinks and it warms her heart. "He was not well Mother."

She kisses Thor's forehead again. "I will see to him, do not worry."

She leaves him, recalling the path to Loki's chamber by heart. She wonders about his health, concern filling her veins at the prospect of his being too proud to be treated. When they were children, Thor hardly had to go to the healer whereas Loki, her sweet Loki, spent twice as much time there.

She stops at the door, deciding against the idea of knocking and announcing herself. She does not want Loki to hide himself, cover his own injuries. She wants to catch him off-guard.

Pushing the door open very slowly, she is taken aback by what she sees. Her son sits upon his bed, wounds exposed while another figure tends to them. Frigga steps back, still watching, focusing on them.

The figure, with her loose auburn hair, reminds Frigga of the girl she saw standing. She works quietly, combining healing remedies with some magic, making the lacerations fade and diminish.

Frigga works on matching a name, trying to recall where she had seen her face before. Her eyes, they were familiar long before she confused her for a soldier's wife. She stands outside Loki's chamber, wringing her hands until the name comes.

Sigyn

Frigga glances back inside, catching her son kiss Sigyn. She smiles as she withdraws, returning to the healer.

Thor is waiting there, sitting on the edge of a bed. "How is he?" He asks.

She touches Thor's shoulder, recalling the days when Thor was small, barely to her waist. "He is fine."

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><p><strong>author's note<strong>: The entire purpose of this is to provide me an outlet when writing my own novel starts driving me up a tree. Sometimes I'll follow what Marvel says happens, other times I'll listen to mythology and sometimes I'm just going to go my own way. So forgive me where I stray from one of the two established groups. Reviews will be appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. Marriage**

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><p>She was promised to another.<p>

Yet, she thinks, here she lay, curled beside a man who would have to be sworn away with. The thought keeps her awake, mind racing through the scandalous possibilities of how to avoid marriage. But consider as she might, she struggles with the idea of allowing Theoric to be humiliated in public.

She would allow her own name to be dragged down in the realm of gossip but she couldn't see allowing the same to befall Theoric. He had been kind to her after all, even if she didn't care for his affections.

She sighs, trying once again to create a way. She tries to have all ideas be serious, but she can't resist letting a silly one cross her mind once or twice.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Nothing," she says, twisting to look at him, bringing her hand to his cheek.

Even weary, he raises one eyebrow, considering the truthfulness of her statement. Yet, he does not have the strength to question her. Foolishly he tried to question her once when in the same state and all logic was shattered as she wove stories that he could not keep up with.

"Fine," he says, kissing her, letting himself go back to sleep.

She continues to play with different notions that cross her mind. At once, she had seriously considered telling Theoric that she was carrying the child of another but had waved that away at the realization that he would only be noble and speed up the marriage.

She smiles remembering the idea. It could have played out quite hysterically, what with telling Theoric and, perhaps, the all-father and then pleading for her marriage to Theoric be halted since she should not disgrace him. And had she been ordered to tell who the father was, she would not have, but assuming that Loki had been in audience, his fainting might have been a tell-tale sign.

She pushes back the stray locks of dark hair that fall over his face, quietly musing that he should be happy she didn't go through with that idea.

"What are you thinking?" He asks, eyes still closed.

His voice frightens her from her glee but it does not stop her fingers from tucking the final lock of hair away.

"Nothing."

"I have never known you to be awake over nothing."

"I tell you, it is nothing." She kisses his lips, willing the thoughts from her mind lest he has learned some mind reading trick that she is yet to be aware of.

"Of course," he says, still doubting her but refusing to call her a liar. He opens his eyes and stares at her, while she feigns innocence.

He knows what has been bothering her, it's the same thing that has been bothering him. The idea of her marrying Theoric has been eating away at him, forcing him to scheme on the matter for she has been promised. There can be no declaration on his part that as a son of Odin, he should have the right to usurp Theoric in her hand for marriage.

She smiles at him, feeling content that she has kept hold of her secret, before closing her eyes to at least attempt at sleep.

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><p>The day of the wedding ensnares her. Her chin is forced up as a maid applies different things to her face, many that Sigyn has never considered meant for make-up. Another woman decorates her hair that has already been pulled back and arranged in a manner tasteful for a bride.<p>

"So beautiful," one woman lets slip from her mouth. They step back and let her examine herself in the mirror. Tiny pearls and precious stones have been set into her hair, while her lips have been painted and her cheeks have a powder applied to them.

"You should look happy," another woman says, touching her shoulders. "A girl on her wedding day should always be happy." The look on the woman's face freezes, as she stares at Sigyn's face. "Aren't you happy?"

She forces a smile on her lips, glancing up at the woman. "Of course, I'm happy."

They have her dressed and looking the part of the perfect bride less than an hour later. The maids who helped prepare her beam, proud of their hand in the creation, proud that they can say they had a part in such a wedding.

She lets the moment blur, not bothering to remember. She doesn't care to remember this day, it would just sit there as an unhappy moment in her life, the day she lost her love to a man who meant well.

She stands with Theoric before Odin who unites them in marriage. When she has to speak, she does, her voice full of false emotion. She knows how to lie, how to pretend. And when she meets Theoric's smile with one of her own, she doesn't mean it. She imagines him there, rather than the blonde, tanned fellow that she is slowly accepting as her husband.

Odin declares them bonded, forever husband and wife. He smiles as does everyone in attendance. She struggles to keep her smile, to keep blushing and acting nervous, as though she is the innocent bride that they have thought her.

The next time she looks upon Theoric's face is when they are seated at their wedding feast. He is hesitant to be boisterous and join up with his friends. Instead, he lingers at her side, a compassion in his blue eyes that makes her fill with guilt.

Before the dinner has completed, the maids from before escort her back to her chamber and undo all their work. The jewels are taken from her hair, her face washed clean and she has changed from an elegant gown into a simple nightgown.

All leave except for one who touches at her hand. "You'll be all right?" She asks quietly. She has seen the look on Sigyn's face and has assumed it is the nerves of a new bride.

"I'll be fine," she says, wishing to shout that she will not be, that everything has fallen into the wrong place.

The final maid leaves and then Sigyn waits. She sits on the edge of her bed, hands tucked in her lap. She hears the friends of Theoric's that see him off to the door of his new wife's bedchamber.

He slips into the room, followed by cheers and well-wishes. She catches his blue eyes under the mop of blonde hair. She opens her mouth to speak but is quiet when he raises a finger to his lips.

"You need not worry, darling. I will not have you tonight." He puts out many of the candles as he steps over to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers. "It has been a long day and I wish nothing more than to sleep."

She nods, sliding under the covers herself, the darkness of the room broken only by the faint glow of two remaining candles. Sighing, she lays on her side, teetering on the edge of her own bed, wishing only to be separated by as much space as possible from Theoric.

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><p>She is guilty of many things. Lying, pretending and now infidelity. With a robe drawn around her, she slides from her bed and steps out into the hall, careful not to wake her husband. Her bare feet do not make a sound as she travels down the halls, taking side passages as she winds her way to Loki's chambers.<p>

She wishes to tell him that she's sorry, that she didn't try harder to be with him rather than Theoric. But mostly that this will have to be goodbye as she is bound to Theoric.

She is nearly there when loud, arguing catches her ears. She steps over to see a group has formed, all trying to speak over the others. As she nears, she spies Theoric's mother, who once she catches the gaze of Sigyn, steps over to her.

"Who did you wed?" She demands rather than asks, while her fingers twist around Sigyn's wrist.

"Theoric," she says, trying to not sound unhappy.

Odin's voice booms over the squabble that resumes. "As I said to you, I married Lady Sigyn to Theoric."

"That's impossible," says a voice too familiar that Sigyn imagines it to be a trick. Theoric stands close to Odin, shaking his head. "I was in the forest when I awoke."

Theoric's mother abandons her to take her place beside her son. "And how did you get there?"

"I don't know." He rubs his forehead. "I remember going to bed last night and then I woke up there." His blue gaze returns to Odin. "Which is why you could not have married me to Lady Sigyn."

Odin simply shakes his head. "I, the Lady Sigyn as well as the guests can all testify that you were at the wedding."

"It's not possible," Theoric says again.

"There is one way to figure out," Odin says, raising his hand. "Lady Sigyn, who went to your bed?"

"Theoric," she says, lip trembling.

"And is he still there?" Odin asks, causing Theoric to frown at the notion that another, an impostor, should be called Theoric.

"He was when I left."

"Then we shall find out who is there," he says calmly to Theoric and his mother.

Sigyn lets them step past her, preferring to lag behind with such a discovery on the horizon. She can see the anger welling in Odin as well as Theoric, though only Theoric carries a red complexion. She pulls the robe tighter as she follows them, frightened by who they might find.

Only Odin enters when they reach her chambers. Theoric stands back, face turning a deeper shade of red while his mother presses her hand to her mouth, threatening to faint. The others draw back when Sigyn peers in, gray eyes settling on the figure who sleeps in her bed and is roused by Odin.

She smiles when Odin bellows his name, waking the palace.

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><p>The next day, she is called before Odin. Theoric is there as is Loki whose eyes light when he sees her. She remains impassive, eyes focusing on the tiled floor.<p>

"For impersonating Theoric, you should be banished," Odin says, voice booming.

Nearby Theoric nods. "And is there no way to have their marriage broken?"

"No," Odin says, looking at Theoric. "There is nothing that can be done." He turns his angry blue gaze back to Loki who meets his eyes. "Which is why you shall be banished."

"And I shall go with him," she says, stepping forward, eyes scanning the room. Theoric lets his mouth fall open while Odin simply stares at her.

"Why?" Theoric asks, the word difficult for him to speak.

"Because I am his wife and I am bound." She keeps her features neutral as she approaches, stopping only when she is at Loki's side. "And as a loyal wife, I must ask that you forgive him."

Odin leans back, taking this into consideration. A small smile appears on his lips as he contemplates the idea. "You make a bold statement."

She courtesies, gaze falling to the floor only for a moment. "Any wife would for her husband."

Despite Theoric's protests, they are dismissed. Sigyn trails Loki, hearing Theoric's final demanding.

"And he is not to be punished?"

"He will," Odin says. "In time, he will come to regret taking a wife and that shall be his punishment. And she shall allow herself to be caught in such a loveless marriage." There is pause and Sigyn slows her pace to hear the final statement Odin makes. "And can you not find another wife, Theoric?"

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><p>When the door closes behind him, a smile graces his mouth. She laughs before throwing her arms around his neck.<p>

"Brilliant," she says softly, delighted at what has transpired.

He wraps his arms around her, holding her close. "Would you expect any less?"

She bites back on mocking 'yes' and revels in the moment. "It was better than what I thought of," she says.

He pulls her away, looking down at her. "Which was?"

"It doesn't matter now," she says, kissing his lips.

"I would still like to know."

"You wouldn't have liked it."

"And why not?"

"Because I wouldn't have told you until it happened." At his frown, her smile widens, thankful for her Loki.

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><p><strong>author's note:<strong> the title of this collection is based of off a song by The Civil Wars called Poison & Wine. I highly recommend the song.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. Rescue**

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><p>They separate. They always separate at public functions. She slips away while he keeps to himself, lingering on the fringe. She listens to her friends console her, touching at her shoulders and hands, before their concerns turn to gossip.<p>

"What is he like?" They whisper, glancing over their shoulders to catch a glimpse at the man who has wedded their friend.

She looks down, simply shaking her head, not wishing to say a thing. They, however, read into her silence and when she leaves them, they continue to talk amongst themselves.

"He must just be cruel. Heartless," they say in agreement. They scare themselves with the thought that they could end up with such a husband before returning to the celebration.

For Odin watching the scene unfold, he believes that their punishment has already come. Loki has grown tired of his wife and his wife of him. He believed it was only a matter of time. Yet, Frigga who sits beside him does not see it as punishment. Instead, she believes her husband duped by lies and a show. While Odin only notices when Sigyn departs from Loki's side, Frigga is more concerned with what happens after. For when Sigyn steps closer to her friends, letting them flock around her with insincere consolations, she is watched. Frigga smiles when she sees how from the edge of the room, her son's eyes do not leave his wife.

Many, Frigga believes, assume that the distance speaks for itself. Sigyn departing must mean a troubled marriage, a loveless one. Yet, there is eye contact between the two, a smile on the young wife's face when she catches her husband's eye from across the room. And it is Sigyn's cleverness that allows whomever she speaks to the assumption that they have invoked the sudden smile. Then there is a warrior who captures Sigyn while she glides around the room, entering conversations and just as quickly leaving them. This one keeps her, trying to invoke a deep conversation, maybe a denial of her marriage. From where she sits, Frigga watches a game play out, where the girl falls quiet, sipping from a goblet in her hand, evading questions.

The girl shies away from the man but he steps closer, taking her free hand and kissing it. He whispers to her words that Frigga assumes are promises, maybe that she deserves something better. She watches Sigyn pull back, shaking her head. She glances at her son, seeing him straighten, suddenly tense. The thought that he might step in amuses Frigga and she waits for it, ready to see their pretense cast aside.

But Sigyn wins, pulling back, words falling from her lips that make the warrior step back and bow his head. The loyal wife, Frigga thinks, watching Sigyn depart from the scene. Then her eyes return to her son, waiting for him to leave, to follow his wife. Yet, he lingers before eventually striding to Thor's side, whispering into his brother's ear.

Thor looks at his brother, shaking his head.

"You should stay," he gestures to the crowd.

"No." The word falls bluntly from Loki's mouth and with it, he is gone. Thor turns back to his friends, shakes his head, complaining that he does not understand his brother.

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><p>Before they were wed, hiding was a matter of security. She had been betrothed to Theoric and his mother kept a stern gaze upon her future daughter-in-law. With marriage, some room to be seen in public was granted, but they were not to be in love. Sigyn must resign to this conforming for it is what the people want to see. They do not want the second, darker prince to be content with a single wife, believing that any woman married to him would be cast aside. In their minds, they have twisted the images of Sigyn and Loki to fit what they have perceived. Sigyn is innocent with kind gray eyes that seek to understand. She is hospitable, always wanting to help whereas Loki is a liar, doing whatever pleases him at the moment. The rumors that he has had many lovers before his wife form him into a menacing, twisted creature that seeks to ruin the purity of Sigyn.<p>

Even Odin must believe this, she thinks, a shiver running down her spine. He certainly does not try to counter the idea. Sigyn fears that Frigga shares her husband's beliefs and wonders who then saw any hope in Loki.

She abandons the goblet on the railing, eyes roaming across the city. A smile turns the corners of her lips when she feels a hand brush back the loose locks of her hair. She turns, the smile slipping from her face.

"Sigyn," Theoric says, standing inches from her.

"What is it, Theoric?"

"You seemed miserable." He reaches to touch her face but she turns, pushing away his hand with her own. "You should have let him be banished," he says. "You could have at least been happy."

"I am quite content with how things are," she says, defiance in her gray eyes. She bites back on her anger, knowing that Theoric means well, he always does. When they were arranged to be married, he had promised to look out for her, to keep her as a high concern. His mother had been disgusted with the statement, staring at her son. She had dared to speak but a glance from her son had made her close her mouth, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You look so sad." His hand touches her arm and she doesn't look at him. He wears a weak smile, trying to look into her gray eyes, searching for the gratefulness that he knows must be there. "I would do anything for you Sigyn." When she remains unreadable, he kisses her cheek.

"Do you do this often Theoric? Prey on other men's wives?"

Theoric turns, one hand on her arm while he smirks at Loki. "I should ask you the same."

"As I recall," Loki says, stepping forward, hands before him, fingertips touching. "She is my wife, not yours."

"She would have been."

"But she is not." A devilish smile curls on Loki's lips as he holds out his hand. Theoric stands quiet when she leaves him, taking Loki's hand. "She is my wife."

"Of course." Theoric says, stepping back, pressing into the railing.

"Good." His hand clasps at hers, she presses into his side, remaining the same silent figure. He is escorting her back inside while Theoric scours for her reaction, looking for a glimmer of unhappiness at this. She is still his, he thinks, simply captured temporarily, awaiting rescue. He opens his mouth, fumbling with words before he finally shouts, "Anything Sigyn, I would do anything."

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><p>"It should be something that could be crushed."<p>

She looks at the book he has dedicated himself to since they returned, arms draped around his shoulders. "Whatever you are considering, I would prefer you wouldn't."

He flips a page, green eyes scanning the pages. "I fear I have to."

"I don't think you'll win much favor by turning Theoric into a fish," she says, eyeing the spell described.

"It's more merciful than what I originally had in mind."

"Which was?"

"To simply kill him." His finger traces the spell and he contemplates how he could best do it. If he is kind, he would cast it while Theoric stood near a body of water, giving him at least of fighting chance of survival. "This way someone else will. Though I fear it will be because he'll become their next meal."

"That's horrid." Her nose crinkles at the idea and she decides to put a stop to it. Reaching past him, she closes the book, pushing it aside. "Why don't you consider it later?"

"But I rather see him suffer now," he says, turning to look at her.

"And I rather not question if the next fish I see is someone I know or not."


	4. Chapter 4

**4. Child**

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><p>She wanders the gardens, finding peace in the seclusion. He has been gone, off on another diplomatic mission, as he describes it. She knows better. More often than not, what is meant to be peaceful, turns into a battle of some kind or another. More often than not, he returns saying that they are now in another treaty that almost never came about.<p>

She settles on one of the benches, hands folded in her lap. The last time she strayed this far in the garden was when she had wanted to escape, weighed down by the announcement that it had been decided in her best interest to wed Theoric. She had considered running past the final row of groomed hedges into the trees, lingering there until she knew how to make them reconsider. Instead, she remembers with a rueful smile, he had found her, hands trembling as she pondered taking the next step. He had touched her arm, brought her into an embrace and kissed her.

She sighs, the light has begun to fade and evening chill taking it's place. She considers returning to the palace but decides against it, tired of going to an empty bed.

There is a shudder just past the limits of the garden, a sound. For this she stands, stepping closer, peering into the shaded area with a growing curiosity. What she finds, draws her in, pressing her to enter the wood. A small child, she notes, sits amongst the trees, curled against the trunk of a tree, head in her thin arms.

Sigyn steps closer, remaining a foot away from the child, when she kneels. "What are you doing out here, little one?" She asks, concern that a child has disappeared from their mother's grasp.

The girl looks at her and Sigyn fears she cannot be any older than five or six, so small and frail. Dark, tangled hair falls to the girl's shoulders and Sigyn's breathing stills when she notices something off about the child, something dark and, perhaps, even twisted. She moves closer to the child, closing the gap, awaiting an answer yet receiving none.

"Where are your parents?" Sigyn asks, pushing stray locks of dark hair from the girl's face.

"I have none," she says in a quiet voice, peering up at Sigyn with inquisitive eyes.

She sits on the ground next to the child, forsaking lessons in how to be a lady. "But you must," Sigyn says. The girl shakes her head and Sigyn spies the beginnings of tears in her eyes. She wraps her arm around thin shoulders, finding it strange how cold the girl's skin is. "What is your name?"

"Hel."

"Well, Hel," Sigyn says wearing a smile. "Why don't we go inside?" The child peers at her, curiosity in her stare. She continues to beam at the child. "It's growing dark and cold. This is no place to be at such an hour."

"But-"

"I insist." Sigyn stands, holding out her hand to the girl. "Come, little one, it will be all right." The girl takes her hand and Sigyn leads her through the gardens, eventually stepping inside the palace. The child becomes tense, looking all around her, expecting harm to befall her. Sigyn holds tight to her hand, taking the side passages that she had learned when traversing to his chambers in secret. Their chambers, she corrects herself with a smile.

"Have you eaten, little one?" She asks, coming to the doors, looking down at the child.

"No."

"Well, we shall change that." She lets Hel in, watching the child take in the room. It's not the most child-friendly room, Sigyn thinks. Spell books, scrolls and everything he could possibly need for research has been spread out on practically every flat surface. The little space that is left on tables is usually occupied by a goblet or by candles lighting whatever he works on.

"Do you read all of these?" She asks, peering at an open book of spells.

"No, little one." She reads what has caught Hel's attention. The page marked is one for defensive spells, noting how to hide one's presence. Typical of her husband, she thinks.

"Then who does?" Her eyes are wide as saucers when she looks up at Sigyn, trying to ponder a reason why else the books might be everywhere.

"My husband." Sigyn says, her hand smoothing the girl's wayward hair. She notices how the child freezes, stiffening. "Do not worry little one. He is not here which is why I wish to have your company."

"Where is he?"

"Off with the All-Father, in another realm," she says, crouching down and hugging the girl. "Whenever he returns, he always has stories of adventure."

"Do you ever go with him?"

"No. Though I wish I could sometimes." Hel nods at this, understanding. "Now, we shall see if something can't be gotten for you to eat." Sigyn rises, knowing that somewhere, stalking nearby is the maid who once served as her nursemaid when she was a child. She smiles when she is not wrong and the woman comes from some unseen area.

"What is this?" Arnbjorg comes forward, eyes darting from Sigyn to the child and back again. "My lady?"

"Her name is Hel." Sigyn's hand rests on the child's back, keeping her from slinking further behind Sigyn's skirt. "She is my guest and she needs something to eat."

"There won't be much, I'm afraid." The woman's aged hands settle on her waist, she narrows her gaze, trying to bore into gray eyes.

"If you could get her something, I would greatly appreciate it." Sigyn smiles, recalling methods she had once employed when she was small and trying to evade discipline. "Please?"

"Fine." The elder woman relents, walking towards the door only to stop and turn back, attempting a final rein in of her former charge. "What would your husband say?"

"He wouldn't mind it." When Arnbjorg has left them, Sigyn guides Hel to a chair near the fire that was kept in Sigyn's absence. "You should warm up, little one." The departing comment of the maid, Sigyn suspects, has made an impact on the child for she clings to Sigyn's skirt and looks frightened. "What is it?"

"Will he be angry?"

"Oh no, child." Sigyn sits her in the chair and kneels before her. "He is very kind and would not mind at all." She kisses the girl's forehead. "If I do not mind, he most certainly will not."

Hel relaxes at this, slumping back, letting the heat warm her face. Sigyn touches at the girl's forehead, still perplexed how after so much time, the girl's skin retains a chill. She leaves the child to sit while cleaning up the miscellany of books that are spread across a table.

Sigyn smiles when the woman returns carrying a bowl of a thick soup. "What is it?" Sigyn asks taking it from her wrinkled grasp.

"I did not ask."

"Never mind that, it will do."

"Is there any-?" She asks the question, hoping for the answer of no but she knows that Sigyn will have something else. She closes her eyes when Sigyn interrupts her, already eager to dispense another task.

"Perhaps, something could be found for her to wear other than that tattered thing?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"Thank you," she says, hugging Arnbjorg, careful not to spill the contents of the bowl.

"Your welcome, my Lady."

Sigyn withdraws, taking the bowl to the child. Arnbjorg sighs before disappearing again to fill the latest request. When she returns, she presents a dress that she believed to be about the right size. Sigyn takes it from her, coaxing the child from her own torn clothes into the clean gown.

"May I be dismissed?"

"Yes and thank you again," Sigyn says, never leaving the child's side. From her place by the door, the woman watches the care that Sigyn gives the child, pulling her into her lap and holding her close while whispering stories into her ears. For a second, she wonders, where the child she remembered went and when this woman replaced her.

Sigyn keeps the girl with her, telling her adventures that she herself has never participated in. She watches for when the green eyes glow with excitement and then her lips part in a gasp at the chance that the heroes will be no more. And the final smile when Sigyn describes all they came away unscathed except for minor scratches. Eventually, she notices how the girl's eyelids fall closed and her questions and comments become murmurs. With this cue, Sigyn gathers her up in her arms and carries her to the bed and lays her down, bringing the sheets up around her.

She steps back and leaves her side, going around the room to put out candles and moves the bowl onto a space that she cleared on one of the tables. She is not frightened when she spies Arnbjorg approach her.

"You've come back," Sigyn says, fingers tracing over the spines of the tomes that he has collected and allowed to accumulate.

"I wanted to make sure you did not need any more assistance with her." She folds her hands before her, observing Sigyn's movements.

"I think I handled it quite well," Sigyn says, turning and looking into light blue eyes.

The woman inches closer to her former charge. Her voice is quiet with the question, not wishing to rouse the child. "Where did you find her?"

"Outside of the gardens."

"And her parents?"

"She claims to have none."

Arnbjorg pales at the gleam she sees in Sigyn's eyes. "You aren't considering taking her in, are you?"

"She speaks of having no family," Sigyn says, glancing back towards the books. "I cannot fathom leaving a child-"

"It is not your decision to be made." Her blue eyes flash as she struggles to catch Sigyn's gray eyes. "You are a married woman. He will not want a stranger's children, he will want his own."

"He will listen to me." Her hand stills on the table. "I will tell him and he will understand." She looks back at the sleeping girl. "He will like her."

"You do not know that."

Sigyn turns, seeing the anger and worry bubbling behind the old woman's features. The frown Sigyn wears softens as she touches her shoulder. "Trust me."

The woman sighs, pulling away to go back out. "I hope for your sake, you are right. The prince is known to have a fickle heart."

"I know." Sigyn smiles and then she is alone, Arnbjorg departing as quickly as she came. She readies for bed, taking the place where he would sleep, letting the girl curl in her place. She lays on her side, pondering the strangeness of this little girl and if she could take her for her own.

In dreams, she has seen sons, two sons that will be her own. Never a daughter, she notes, sinking into sleep. When confronted with these visions, she had wished for a girl, a chance to spread her wisdom and see an extension of herself. She would be grateful for sons, boys bearing their father's appearance and intellect, but they would be their father's sons, only hers for as long as she could hold them.

* * *

><p>Arnbjorg is both amused and confused at the interest that Sigyn takes in the child. She wonders if Sigyn knows something that she will not speak of, perhaps the knowledge that she might never have children. But the matron pushes the thought from her mind when she sees Sigyn scoop up the child into her arms.<p>

"We are going to the garden," she announcess, matching the smile on the child's face.

Arnbjorg breaks from her revere, staring at the young woman before her. "What for?"

"I am going to show her the gardens and maybe some magic."

"My lady," she squawks, chasing after them as they leave the room. "Your presence was request-"

"Tell them I have more urgent matters to attend to," Sigyn interrupts, not bothering to pause in her pace.

She stands there, watching the two turn down a hall, flabbergasted. "Of course."

* * *

><p><strong>author's note:<strong> I made up some things, altered some things and just all together threw some bits in but this is the sort of cute thing you write when your other project is about war and violence, yes? Yes. So, please forgive my inaccuracies or comment about them in a review and I will alter bits of it. Otherwise, I'm off to consider writing a part two to follow this.


	5. Chapter 5

**5. Flower [part two of Child]**

* * *

><p>Frigga stares at the woman before her who bows deeply. "Where is Lady Sigyn?" Frigga asks delicately.<p>

"My Lady had other matters to attend to. She deeply regrets being unable to speak with you."

Frigga ponders the words, wondering what could draw Sigyn from attending. She keeps her gaze fixed upon the woman. "Then perhaps you might be able to answer. How has Lady Sigyn been?"

"What do you mean?" Arnbjorg glances up, confusion spreading across her features.

"She has been away many nights," Frigga says rising from her chair, stepping closer to her. "Many would assume this to be a joyous time for her, her husband is away and she would have her freedom. Yet, she is rarely seen outside of the gardens during the day." She pauses, looking down at the tiled floor, sighing. "Some would fear that this behavior is because Odin is due to return home soon and with that, the prince will be returned." She peers into the eyes of the woman, wondering what she knows.

"She has not been herself," Arnbjorg says hesitantly, avoiding the queen's gaze. "I do not know why, but she has been troubled for some time."

"And what do you know of her marriage to the prince?" Frigga begins to pace, wishing to know if this woman knows their relationship to be what she has come to understand it as. "I would prefer your honesty."

"It is difficult to describe. She is kind but he is strange." She closes her eyes, praying that the queen was speaking the truth when she said she expected honesty. "I think she sees good in him, but I cannot see it. He is unreadable."

"Thank you, your insight is most appreciated," Frigga returns to her chair. "Though, what were these matters that kept Lady Sigyn away?"

"It is a difficult story that would take time to explain."

"I would still like to hear it."

* * *

><p>Hel's eyes widen when she sees the flower bloom in Sigyn's hand. Sigyn smiles, running through all the spells she has learned for those that might appeal to the child. He spent little time teaching her these incantations, instead instructing her on matters important to survival and defense.<p>

"How do you do that?" Hel asks, already knowing the answer. She takes the flower when Sigyn offers it, examining its lavender petals.

"Magic," she says softly, staring at the child.

"You know so much," Hel says, still enchanted by the blossom. She tries and fails to affix the flower in her hair, letting Sigyn slip the flower from her fingers and nestle it in her hair.

"I don't think that's true. I know people much wiser than myself." She rises from the bench, taking the little girl's hand in her own. Sigyn leads the child around the garden, pointing out the plants that she can remember the names of.

"Sigyn," she says, the word falling awkwardly off her tongue. When she had awoken, it had been her first question. She wanted a name for the face. "You have been very kind to me," she says after pausing. Her eyes search the plants for more blooms.

"You deserve such." Sigyn stops, letting the girl's hand go. "You did not deserve to be left in the state I found you." She watches the girl scamper over towards a bed of flowers, examining them. She settles onto the ground, hands in her lap, a smile tugging at her lips when Hel returns with a white blossom and holds it out to her. She takes it, gray eyes searching the girl's face. "Do you have no family?"

The little girl shakes her head firmly, watching Sigyn keep the flower in her hand. She keeps her head bowed, eyes searching the ground, returning to the foliage.

"If you would like," Sigyn begins, twirling the flower between her fingers. "You could stay with me, little one."

Hel raises her gaze, settling on the smile and kind gaze. She bites her lower lip before speaking. "I would like that very much."

Sigyn pulls the girl into her arms, kissing her forehead. "Then you will be my little one and I will keep you safe."

* * *

><p>When she returns, the child asleep in her arms, she finds Arnbjorg there, arms crossed. "Yes?" She asks innocently, laying the girl down.<p>

"The Queen would like to see you."

She lets the child slide from her arms, watching slender arms curl around a pillow. "What about?" She glances back at Arnbjorg who has yet to move.

"She had requested to see you earlier and when I told her you were otherwise engaged," her voice drifts off, gaze settling on the small body in Sigyn's bed. "I told her."

"And?"

"Now she wishes to have a private audience with you."

Sigyn pauses, tucking back the locks of hair that fall across Hel's face. "Watch her, won't you?"

"Of course." Arnbjorg straightens, feeling her abilities to care for a child have been brought into question.

"I will return after speaking with the Queen." She pulls back her hand, turning on her heel. At the door, she stops. "If she wakes before I return-"

"I did take care of you as a child." Arnbjorg raises an eyebrow, staring at Sigyn.

"And look how I turned out." She looks over her shoulder, grinning. "Thank you."

Does the Queen think her mad? She strides down the halls, gaze to the floor, ignoring any attempts at conversation. She curses Arnbjorg's refusal to tell the Queen's reaction to the story. She would prefer to know, be prepared for what she will hear. She stops just outside the door, listening to the conversation inside.

"Come, Lady Sigyn." She pushes at the door, finding Frigga seated at a desk, a maid at her side. Frigga nods to the maid and she is gone.

"You requested my presence?" Sigyn curtsies before her.

"I did. It has come to my attention that you have been staying away from everyone. Some think you depressed, others are simply perplexed."

"I did not wish to be of anyone's concern."

"I suspect you have become the concern of many including the loyal Theoric." Frigga watches as Sigyn's eyes flick upwards. "What has been troubling you?"

"Nothing. I have merely sought to be alone and reflect."

"On?"

"My own matters."

Frigga nods. "And what is this I hear of a child?"

She pales, unable to weave together words that answer the question thoughtfully, instead finding that a sarcastic retort is the only thing on the tip of her tongue. "I'm not expecting one, if that's what you're asking."

* * *

><p>She is amused at the child's desire to explore, first roaming the room, inspecting every text and paper, then the garden and the need to touch every plant. She settles back on a bench until she is fetched, thin cold fingers grasping her wrist, dragging her towards the latest discovery.<p>

"What is it?"

"It is a herb used for healing."

The child lets her fingers settle on the leaves, pinning it between thumb and index. Satisfied by that and wishing to hear no more, she leaves Sigyn for another plant, kneeling before it and touching at it delicately. Sigyn returns to her place, awaiting the next time that she is pulled away.

They are found by Arnbjorg who hangs over Sigyn's shoulder. "They shall be returning tonight."

A smile tugs at her lips when she glances up at the weary looking woman. "That is good."

"What will you tell him?" The matron hisses.

"I have not decided yet." She purses her lips. "But I think I will introduce them and then speak to him in private."

The child pauses and glances over her shoulder. She abandons the last find and settles herself in front of the two women. "What are you talking about?"

"You will have to meet someone," she says, turning her gaze to the child before her.

"Him." Hel's voice is quiet and she averts her eyes.

"My husband, yes," Sigyn says, her palm holding the girl's cheek, pressing her to look up. "Do not look so fearful, little one."

"What if he doesn't like me?"

"He will love you," she says, pressing a kiss onto the girl's forehead. She leaned closer, whispering into the child's ear. "Do not let her crossness lead you to think him evil. She has never cared for him."

Hel's eyes widened at the comment. "Why?"

"That is a story for another time," she says, touching the girl's shoulder. "Now, go play, curious one."

* * *

><p>They return late. Frigga beams when she sees them enter. Her husband and sons have returned unscathed and for that she is thankful. She does not run to embrace her husband as she would like, rather she greets him with a smile and a hope that all is well. He tells her what has happened, how they've negotiated a truce yet she lets her eyes wander. Thor, she notices, surrounds himself with his friends, all talking about the adventure they've had. Loki scans the crowds, examining faces before departing.<p>

He pulls the helmet from his head before he enters. He expects her there, waiting as she does. He expects a reason as to why she was not there, imagining that she will smile and say she preferred not to be caught up in the celebration, that she wanted him to find her.

He enters, eyes settling where he imagines she will sit. When she is not there, he surveys the room, frowning. He strides inside, leaving the helmet on a table amongst spell books. He finds her laying on their bed, dressed for the celebration yet seemingly having fallen asleep. He reaches over to touch her shoulder, intending to wake her when he is startled, pulling back. Curled against her, he notices, is a small child, clutching fistfuls of her dress.

Stepping back, he leaves, returning to the celebration only to remain at the edge, observing as he always does. Thor tries once to draw him in, bring him into a conversation mainly to nod that things occurred as Thor describes them. Yet, he keeps to himself, mind dancing around what she is doing with a girl in her arms, fearful to give himself an answer.

He stays, watching the others grow drunk and unrestrained. When Thor approaches, trying again to lull him into a conversation, he politely excuses himself. However, as he wanders, he finds himself going back to where she is. He stops short of the door, considering wandering for the rest of the night but finds that tiresome.

The second time he enters, he finds her there waiting for him. She meets his green gaze, a smile on her lips. He doesn't move when she embraces him, kissing him. His gaze leaves her, falling upon the child still asleep. He opens his mouth to speak when she intercedes, still cheerful.

"Her name is Hel and yes, we're keeping her."


	6. Chapter 6

**6. Night**

* * *

><p>He stares at her while she avoids his gaze, focusing on the embers instead. He steps closer to her, hands held out before him. "It is not that simple," he says, sitting beside her.<p>

"She has no family." Gray eyes search his green ones, looking for the empathy. Her voice is quiet, strained with hope. "Please."

"We cannot."

"What about her bothers you?"

"Nothing, Sigyn." He touches her arm, letting his fingers settle on her shoulder. "But we cannot keep her. Perhaps someone else-"

"Loki," she attempts to interrupt him, pulling away from his touch when her attention is drawn to the bed. She pauses, watching the sheets rustle before Hel sits up suddenly, a small figure in a sea of blankets and pillows. A smile appears on her lips and she hurries to the child, sitting beside Hel. "Hello, little one."

He catches the child staring at him and observes how her hands instinctively grasp at Sigyn's dress, pulling herself closer to his wife. When Sigyn sees this, she gathers the child in her arms and carries her to him, resting the child on her hip.

He sits there, examining the gangly child in her arms, finding her such an odd child, both familiar and foreign. He mulls over Sigyn's idea, letting it register. Sigyn has already made her decision, he realizes. She would have them act like a family of sorts, jumbled together, as though such an arrangement was possible. As though it could all play out perfectly. He sighs, rising and striding over to them. His father already disapproved enough of him, he knew that. He was not Thor, the golden child, nor was his nature appreciated by those around him. He had toed the line when he made Sigyn his wife, unconcerned with what others had thought. Doing this, accepting this, could bother his father further, making the man more irate with him. To take a child whose origins were a mystery would be a cause for more tribulation. Yet, he thinks, it is what she wants and it makes her happy.

He stands close to her, letting the child's eyes roam over him, a fearful look in her gaze. "Hel?"

"Hel," Sigyn says, nodding.

"All right," he says, touching at the child's hair, kissing Sigyn.

* * *

><p>Frigga walks with Sigyn, the two strolling through corridors. "And how is she?"<p>

"She's adjusting quite well." Sigyn smiles, delighted to find an ally in the queen. "Arnbjorg has taken over watching her when I let her. She is a strange child at times but I love her."

"It was for the best that you found each other then." Her pace slows. "A child needs to have a home where they are loved."

"Yes," Sigyn says. She looks at the queen warily. "Will you be telling the All-Father about this?"

"I will." She touches at Sigyn's shoulder, smiling at the young woman. "You need not worry about him, he will understand the idea. Though, it may be under the impression that you need someone who needs you and loves you." Her blue eyes focus on Sigyn who catches the meaning.

"Of course. Because I hate my husband," she says dully.

"Of course," Frigga says, both smiling when they speak. They continue along before she eventually looks back at her daughter-in-law. "And what about him?"

Sigyn tries to suppress the urge to smirk without much success. "Oh, I think he's handling it as well as he can. They're struggling to trust each other, but with time she might just let him hold her."

* * *

><p>His arm rests lazily over her waist, keeping her close. It is then that he is again thankful to be home and vows to try harder to avoid going with his brother and father the next time. She has already drifted off to sleep, he is on the verge of it when he hears the meek voice at their bedside.<p>

Hel stands at the side, tugging at Sigyn's hand. She is quiet, trying to wake only Sigyn. "Mama," she says, giving Sigyn's hand another little pull. Hel stops when she sees eyes flutter open and a smile appear.

She slinks from under his arm, closer to the edge, peering at the bright green eyes. "What is it, little one?" She whispers, touching at Hel's face.

"I cannot sleep." She looks down. "There were monsters."

He watches from half-open eyes as she rises, settling in a chair, holding the girl close to her, the child burying her face in the silk nightgown, recounting the nightmare. Sigyn rests her cheek against the girl's head, whispering to her, humming.

He never dared approach his parents when he had nightmares, of the moments he feared that everything he loved was in danger from frost giants. He had always, reluctantly, found Thor and bothered him, keeping them both awake until exhaustion took over. No, to have bothered his parents would have been a sin, something that never could have been stood for. He waits to go back to sleep, waiting for her to replace Hel in her own bed and return to his arms. He lies in the dark, listening, eyes closed.

"Can I stay here?"

Sigyn brushes back the tangled hair, wishing to tell her yes but realizes the answer will be no. She smoothes the girl's hair, deciding to take her back when she's fallen back asleep, wishing that could serve as a compromise.

"She can stay."

He realizes that he'll regret the idea, that he's indulging the child and establishing a terrible precedent. Yet, he concedes, that she has no one else to go to. He could recall when they had been children that Thor would awaken him in the middle of the night, spouting random reasons to need to speak with him. In his eyes, Loki had seen the same worry that had gnawed at him when he had woken Thor to show him some magic trick.

He doesn't look when Sigyn allows Hel to crawl into their bed. He only glances to see that the girl lies between them, small body nestled against Sigyn while Sigyn wraps her arms around her. But he catches the smile on Sigyn's face as she looks at him, one hand reaching up to brush his cheek.

* * *

><p><strong>author's note: <strong>Currently listening to the song Skinny Love by Birdy, very pretty song. Thank you for the comments. I appreciate them very much, they guilt me into writing more.


	7. Chapter 7

**7. Evening**

* * *

><p>The first time that he leaves without notice, Hel is surprised. Her little eyes scan Sigyn who is calm, smiling even. "But he's gone," Hel says, standing before her adopted mother, as though the words did not sink in the first time.<p>

"And he'll come back," she says reassuringly, bringing the child to her lap, her small legs swinging, unable to touch the ground from the bench.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because he always comes back."

Hel leans against Sigyn, frowning as she considers this. "Is this why she doesn't like him?" It is certainly a reason for Hel to add to her shortening dislike list. To have someone who will just leave in the morning, not telling where they're going and not telling when they will come back is frustrating in Hel's eyes.

"No, dear. Arnbjorg does not care for him because of something else." She hugs the child, the two of them staring out across the secluded gardens, a favorite to both of them.

"Why then?"

"That's a story for another time." The smile remains on her face. Arnbjorg had simply stood in the doorway, face reddening when she spied him kissing her charge. The woman had sputtered, hands waving as she approached them. He'd cooly looked at her, telling her that he was just leaving and she, her mind assuming the worst, had demanded that he promise he would marry Sigyn. He had remained in the doorway and told her he would do no such thing. And then he'd left and she had turned to the auburn haired girl and began to shriek, demanding answers.

Hel crossed her arms. "Not even a hint?"

"Well, it is how I know that he'll always come back."

The child tilted her head. "That doesn't make sense."

"He doesn't simply make promises to anyone," she explains, wrapping her arm around the child's shoulders. "That bothered Arnbjorg."

It had taken time for him to make a promise to her. Careful years of occasionally speaking, turned to years of being lovers without the guarantee that they would always be together. He had tested the limits of her love, trying to find the line that he would one day inevitably cross. He had shouted, left her for extended periods of time and showed her more and more of who he was. Each time he had waited for her wrath, her denial so that he might finally see who she truly was. Yet, she always waited and came back.

Once he had returned wounded, refused treatment, and she had found him, and despite his ordering her away, had helped heal him. He had kissed her and that night had given her his promise that he would always come back to her. It was his way to repay her consistency and love. Marriage had never been an assurance and Sigyn had accepted that. Marriage had only crossed his mind when he realized that he was losing her to another man.

"Why?"

"Because she expected him to make a promise on the spot and he refused." She runs her fingers through the child's hair, noticing her drifting in and out of sleep. "He doles such things out sparingly which was you can always trust him to keep a promise."

Hel understands this, accepts it and allows it to be fair enough reason to strike the last item from reasons why to dislike him.

* * *

><p>That evening, Sigyn puts Hel to bed, telling her a story before leaving the child alone. Hel waits before slipping from bed and going to their room. She quietly sneaks in, hiding by a chair. Sigyn lays in bed and to Hel it seems she is unfazed by his disappearance. Refusing to leave her alone, Hel sits down, focusing her gaze onto Sigyn.<p>

She doesn't doubt his promise, she repeats that in her mind. If Sigyn will put faith in that promise, so can she, but she doesn't care that he's left her kind mother alone. She can't understand why he could do such a thing or why Sigyn would allow it without complaint.

As her vigil drags on, she slumps into the chair, promising that she still won't sleep until she knows he's back and Sigyn isn't alone. Yet, her body conforms to the chair and she sinks into sleep, assuring herself that she's only closing her eyes for a few seconds.

He returns late in the night, not expecting Sigyn to be waiting for him. His eyes flicker to the small form curled in the chair. Stepping over, he laughs at the child, contorted to sleep in the chair. He doesn't wonder why she's there, sure that he cannot fathom what would drive a child from bed to a chair. He debates leaving her there but decides that she would be better in her own bed. Taking her slowly into his arms, he carries her from their room.

When she begins to wake, realizing she's fallen asleep, she notices she's being carried. A glance up from sleep filled eyes reveals he's returned. She lets herself fall back asleep, content that Sigyn won't be alone.

He lays her in her bed, bringing the sheet around her before leaving. He returns to where Sigyn is, changing before getting into bed. She smiles when he pulls her towards him. "You're not surprised," he says when she lays her head against his chest.

"I trust you."

"She was here," he says, playing with her loose curls. "Sleeping over there."

"She was worried earlier."

"About?"

"If you would come back."

He's quiet, considering it. "Silly girl," he says finally. Yet, the doubt she had bothers him.


	8. Chapter 8

**8. Mother**

* * *

><p>Only once in passing does Thor encounter the child who hovers around Sigyn's legs while Sigyn is returning a book to the library. The girl, still captivated by the vast number of books, allows herself to stumble into the man. He catches her before she falls but she cannot help but pull away, running behind Sigyn.<p>

"And who is this?" He looks at his sister-in-law, gaze flicking down towards the nervous child.

"Her name Hel." She places her hand reassuringly on the child's back, trying to ease her from hiding. "You must be brave," she says. "I promise he will not hurt you."

Yet, Thor is a hulking person, a formidable shape alone without his booming voice. Even when he crouches down, trying to catch her at eye level, she still sees him as a force to be reckoned and takes refuge with Sigyn.

"Is she a relative of yours?"

"No-"

"She's my mother," Hel finishes, finding her voice from her hiding place. Her green eyes examine him, a ferocity brewing behind them.

A smile spreads across Thor's face when he looks up at Sigyn. "Oh sweet Sigyn, such a dark secret that you've been hiding."

She laughs, attempting to look cross with him. "You know that is not what happened, Thor."

"Of course, of course," he says, still chuckling. "We would have all known."

"Isn't there somewhere you should be?" She succeeds in pushing back the smile, able to show that she disapproves at such a theory, as implausible as it is, is considered. The math alone disproves the idea, her relationship to Loki had been beginning, neither of them near the point of considering the other in such a way that might have led to a child.

"Yes, there is." He gives a tiny bow, still smiling. "A pleasure to have made your acquaintance Lady Hel. Lady Sigyn."

When Thor has gone, Hel looks up at Sigyn, her pale face slightly colored by a blush at being called a lady. "Who is that?"

"Your uncle," she says. It is her intention to make them into a family, to ignore the fact that Hel is a lost child and that she is married to a man who the world would consider her better off without.

"His brother?" Hel accepted calling Sigyn mother quickly, using the word and beaming when she first did. There had been something pleasing about calling Sigyn her mother and she relished every opportunity. Yet she could not bring herself to call him father. It seemed awkward to consider. He was her mother's husband, protector and companion yet he did not feel like her father. Sigyn feels like her mother, every embrace and smile making Hel struggle to think about the times when she had not called her so.

"Yes."

Hel knows that her mother would like her to call him father but Sigyn has not forced it. She realizes that both child and adult needed to reach the moment when they could accept the other wholeheartedly and not simply for her benefit.

"Uncle Thor," she says, letting the word idea sit with her. While he makes Hel nervous, she likes the idea that her family might be bigger than simply the three of them. She also enjoys seeing someone else who knew him. For Sigyn, Hel believes, is always forgiving and kind, even when she does not think he deserves it. She finds the idea that this man might have a blunter opinion of him, one that might reveal more, enlightening.

* * *

><p>She sits at Hel's bedside, waiting for the girl to fall asleep before she'll return to Loki. Tonight, Hel clings onto her hand, holding her there. "What's wrong, little one?" She runs her fingers across the child's cheek, watching a smile appear and disappear from Hel's features.<p>

"I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"My dreams." She crawls closer to Sigyn, resting her head in Sigyn's lap.

"What do you dream about?"

"Her." Hel's voice trembles and she buries her face. She takes fistfuls of "She's in my dreams."

"Who is she?" Sigyn brushes back her hair, eyebrows knit in concern.

"My mo-," Hel stops, hating to use the word to define such a person. She despises that the word even applies and bites back on it, reserving it for Sigyn now. "She left me," she says, peering up at Sigyn, tears in her eyes.

Sigyn pulls her closer, embracing the child. "Oh, little one." She smoothes the child's hair as she begins to cry against her shoulder. "You're safe here." Sigyn bites her lip, her own heart breaking, when she feels the child begin to shake, crying, sticky hands clinging to her. "Shh," she murmurs into her dark hair, her hand running up and down the girl's back.

Sigyn glances up to see him standing in the doorway, frowning. "What's wrong?" He steps closer and she knows he's come because she hadn't returned.

"Nightmares," she says, quietly. He sits next to her, watching her try to coax the child from her crying. She holds onto Hel tighter, kissing her cheek. His touches Sigyn's shoulder and she leans against him, still trying to comfort Hel.

"Bring her then," he says. "She can sleep in our bed." He lets Sigyn go, following her as she carries Hel who continues to cry against her shoulder. Arnbjorg appears, her grayed hair at her shoulders, hurrying towards Sigyn. He stops her, halting her pursuit as Sigyn goes into their chambers.

"But," she says, scowling. "I can-"

"Sigyn has it under control. You can leave now."

"I hardly think it is your place to dismiss me." Her hands rest on her hips, anger bubbling behind blue eyes.

"My wife has no need for your help right now."

Arnbjorg glares before gradually leaving. He waits for her to be gone before he turns to follow Sigyn. Hel has gone from her arms to sitting up in bed while Sigyn brushes the hair from her face and wipes away the lingering tears. "Will you be all right, little one?" Hel gives a shaky nod, clutching to Sigyn when she lays down next to Hel.

He lays in bed, watching and waiting like her for the child to drift off. When Hel stills, breathing even, Sigyn looks up at her husband. "She's been dreaming of her mother." His eyes flash, but doesn't speak when he sees the sadness in his wife's eyes. "She abandoned her."

He nods, glancing down at the child. "Did she speak of her?"

"A little." Her fingers brush through Hel's hair. The name that had fallen from the girl's lips amongst sobs lingers in Sigyn's mind. She tries to remember if she's heard it before. It seems familiar, something that she could vaguely recall. She is unsure if it was the child's mother's name or if it had been something else. "Angrboda," she says, the name falling awkwardly off her tongue. "Have you heard that name before?"

He is still, the name settling into his mind, stirring up what he had long cast aside. A sense of dread rose in his stomach, forcing him to fight to remain unreadable. "Once."

* * *

><p><strong>author's note:<strong> Thank you, thank you again for the reviews. They keep me on my toes with getting updates for this.


	9. Chapter 9

**9. Understand**

* * *

><p>She knows he's left when she sees Hel approach her frowning. The child looks up at her, eyebrows furrowed with frustration written into her features. She kisses the child's forehead, smiling at her, wishing that to ease away the cross expression.<p>

"Mama, why does he do that?"

"It is his nature to."

"Well, I don't like it."

"I know you don't, little one. But we must accept people for who they are."

"I think he should stop it." Hel crawls onto Sigyn's lap. "He is unkind when he does it." She purses her lips before adding, "It's childish, too."

"And are you no different when you avoid other children?" Sigyn asks, smoothing the girl's hair. In an attempt to see the child socialize, Sigyn had begun to try and have her play with other nobles's children. Yet for her effort, little had come out of it as Hel would avoid them and keep to herself.

"That's different." She plays with the fabric of her skirt. "I just don't wish to play with them."

"And sometimes he just doesn't want to talk to anyone." Sigyn notices how Arnbjorg stands watch over them, still carrying a displeased look on her face over the matter of him having dismissed her without a second thought. Of course, Sigyn thinks, it's not as though they were devoted friends and that their friendship is now destroyed.

Hel doesn't argue with Sigyn's words, holding back on the complaint that while she understands he might not want to talk to everyone, but it isn't fair how he evades her mother as well.

"Sometimes, little one, you must try to see what others see."

"But Mama-"

"Trust me."

When she smiles, Hel nods, finding her argument losing steam when the person who should be the angriest isn't. Grinning, Hel slips off her lap, tugging at Sigyn's hand.

* * *

><p>He leaves to be alone. No, he flees, seeking refuge anywhere but there, any place where the kindness in her eyes cannot kill him.<p>

He stands in a secluded area, so tranquil that he hoped it might ease his nerves, running numbers through his mind. The way the numbers align frightens him. He drags his hand through his hair, fingers raking his scalp. The idea that he could be a father overwhelms him, yet the name, the numbers, they all fall so neatly into place. The similarities in appearance are striking as well, he thinks. What he found so strange, now he realizes, should have been the first warning.

And what bothers him more is that if it his child, it is one by another woman being raised by his wife. It signifies a betrayal, he thinks. Granted, she was not his wife then. In fact, the thought had never crossed his mind to make her so. He was content traversing the corridors back and forth, spending time with her in his arms, seeking her counsel and leaving it at that. She had never seemed unhappy with the arrangement, for the only times he saw a flash of hurt was when he did not come.

"It was cold," she would say, eyes meeting his and the meaning quite clear. Time had been precious and to waste it was a sin.

He had not loved her when it happened, she had simply been someone who he talked to. He would not have risked punishment to steal her away from her betrothed then, no that came with time, later when he swore off all that he had done. He had changed when he realized her loyalty, the compassion that knew no boundaries. She had loved him despite his flaws, never caring and always accepting him for who he was. That, he knows, is the moment he realized he was willing to do whatever to keep her with him.

But he had betrayed her love.

It had been one time, he thinks to himself, pacing now. And now the child he had been so willing to separate with is seemingly more his than hers. She had argued with him, pleading that they keep her. In the time he had been gone, when she had found Hel, she had become attached. He had only relented, realizing her happiness, recalling the times he made her miserable. Now, he is only bringing more misery, he thinks. Now, there is something to prove his tempestuous nature. Now, he's allowing her to humiliate herself, carrying for his child by another.

He decides to not tell her. Let it eat away at him, devour his insides whole, but he refuses to let her hear it. It is one thing to raise a child abandoned, it is another to raise the child of your husband and one of his lovers.

* * *

><p>He is waiting for them, trying to put on a brave face. He sits with a spell book laid out before him, flicking through pages he has read a hundred times before. He swallows back the emotions that churn, trying to feign his own innocence. He glances up when they come, the child running into the room first, slowing only when her eyes settle on him.<p>

Behind her, Sigyn appears and comes to him. He kisses her, the guilt reappearing, drowning him for a second. Yet, it must be forgotten when the child stands at his side, telling him what they did for the day and how he shouldn't have missed it. And while he listens, nodding, he wonders if he imagined the smile that came to her face when she saw him.


	10. Chapter 10

**10. Tell**

* * *

><p>She speaks slowly, concisely, never looking at Sigyn. Hel fears deep in her heart that Sigyn might have reservations against her, that she could easily say the wrong thing. "She said I was weak." Her voice trembles but she refuses to cry. In truth, she has pushed away many of those memories, forgoing them for the happier ones that she has been able to create with her new mother.<p>

Sigyn is surprised when the little girl begins her confessional, holding tightly to her hand and beginning without prompt. She had seen the child to bed, kissed her forehead and told her that she would see her in the morning. And as she stepped back, she found her hand captured, tugged close by the child who spoke softly.

"She said I would have been better off with my father." To this the child's eyebrows furrow. She blinks back her tears but now the terms that she had parted with that woman on make her frown. "But my father was dead." The meaning she garnered from before still resinates in her mind. She, in that woman's mind, had been better off dead. And then the tears begin to spill down, her lip trembling when she finally meets Sigyn's gaze. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"Oh, little one." Sigyn pulls Hel into her arms, kissing her cheek. "There is nothing wrong with you." The little girl nods, wiping away at her eyes with the back of her hand. She stays there, holding Hel until the child drifts off. Before she leaves, she glances at Hel, making sure that the girl remains asleep.

She finds him hunched over his work. She reads over his shoulder, hand touching at his arm. He shies from her touch, turning the page.

"What is it?" She asks, leaning closer, arms wrapped around his neck.

"Nothing," he says, gaze devoted to the page but not reading a word. "I had to reference something."

She lets her fingers trace his jaw, staring at the page he became committed to. "Tell me."

He is still, mind blanking and tongue useless. He licks at his lips, mouth suddenly dry. "There is nothing to tell."

"You mastered this spell long ago." She tilts her head so that her cheek touches his. "You did so you might easily slip past Arnbjorg."

A smile tugs at his lips. "It worked for a while but she still found out."

"Because you became lazy and stopped casting it." She kisses his cheek. "The spell itself worked perfectly."

"I simply forgot to."

"No, Loki." She laughs. "Your ego got the better of you."

* * *

><p>In her half-sleep, her mind centers on Hel. She contemplates and imagines, pitying the poor child but thankful that she now has the girl. She tries to analyze what the child has told her, reworking and reordering the scarce facts until she can find an answer to why the child might have been so roughly cast aside. The woman had told the child that she was weak and abandoned her. To die, Sigyn thinks, a shiver running down her spine at the notion. It is a heartless plot, Sigyn thinks, and how anyone could subject a child to it is beyond her.<p>

She thinks about Hel's father, the figure mentioned as being dead. Perhaps, she contemplates, it was his death that drove her mother over the edge, made her so uncaring and unloving. Sigyn has known death to do such things, to change people into monsters that they would not be normally. She imagines that before his demise, there had been a family unit. Yes, she thinks, that is why the child would confess to no family and have nightmares. With a father dead and a mother transformed, there was no family left.

Shifting onto her side, she releases the thoughts, trying to focus on sleep. When she relaxes, she finally sleeps.

It comes in the same way that she saw her sons. The same distant vision that was informative without revealing. Except where she expects to see the same boys that she has seen before, a new one plays out. Rather than the two, there is the image of Hel. No words are spoken and her heart tells her that the future has changed. She fears there will be no sons, no other children.

And then she sees it. The meaning, lurking behind it all comes clear when she focuses and she wonders how she never saw it before.

Hel with her spindly form has startling green eyes, eyes that she has seen before and knows quite well. The darkness of her hair creates stark contrast to the white of her skin. And there is the meek expression, the avoidance of confrontation, the eloquence of which she finds her words.

She is cold when she awakes, eyes wide, breath coming hard and fast. She pulls away, leaving him undisturbed, and goes from the room, pulling on a robe as she goes.

Her heart aches, her body immune to the cold of the outside air. She wants to cry, she realizes, bare feet on stone. But not for herself, it is not in her nature to pity herself. No, she aches at the consideration of the child, even of the mother. To have endured, to have cared for a child whose father never came back, would have been difficult. Her heart would have shattered.

Her breath catches in her throat and she feels her own hurt rise. The child had not known of her father but he must have known. Something in his mind must have clicked, realized what Hel was and yet. She pushes farther into the garden, biting back at the annoyance.

She can't blame him. They had not been in love then. He had been a friend. She had no girlhood visions of a romance, no, she had saw him as someone to match wits with, someone with whom she could converse and strengthen her magical ability with. The second stage of their relationship had come later, the result of a slip, an accident.

No, she is not mad about what happened, how Hel came to be. In fact, maybe she is a little thankful for Hel, the child is a great comfort to her. Yet she still feels the irritation course through her veins.

He knew and he didn't tell her and that bothers her.


	11. Chapter 11

**11. Resolution**

* * *

><p>He finds her standing on the edge of the garden, contemplating going further, one bare foot pressed against the rough ground that lies just outside the garden's boundaries. He catches her arm, a smirk on his mouth. "Have they found a way for Theoric to marry you after all?"<p>

She smiles but she does not look at him. She would not have him see her like this, such a miserable pale figure with reddening eyes. "And if they did?"

He is quiet before making his inquiry, quite serious. "You wouldn't marry a fish would you?"

And then it is her turn to hesitate and this makes him nervous. "Yes, I would," she says. And his heart drops, the guilt from before rising in his throat. "But," she adds, a mischievous smile on her lips, "only if it were you."

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her away from the point of leaving. He kisses her cheek, wishing that she might look at him. Yet she is still in his arms and it only drives him further into a pit of dread. He doesn't like to see her this way. The way she keeps her hands still at her side, her chin down. He had seen the symptoms of this when he had married her. Past the fake smile had been eyes filled with regret, a body resigning to marriage as she made promises that she would keep for eternity.

And then he knows. Because he knows her, he's had years to learn her mind, her speech and her actions. He won't let her go, afraid that she'll leave, that this is the final blow for her.

"I didn't know," he says, arms tight around her shoulders, holding her close to him. "And when-." He stops there, unable to drag the sentence further no matter how the words string together. His voice is quiet, emotion in it that is so unlike him. "I couldn't tell you."

Her hand touches his, cold fingers traipsing over a cold hand. "I know," she says because she honestly does. It is his way to be secretive and withholding information. Often, though, it is meant to hurt the other person yet she believes he was genuinely concerned, never intending to hurt anyone.

"Forgive me?" The question is a whisper that just barely falls off his tongue.

She turns in his arms, kissing him. She smiles at him and the heaviness in his chest is lifted. He clutches her, a twinge of fear striking him, that she might turn and break free of him and leave him after all, but she rests her head against his chest.

And he is thankful, glad to bear the criticism, the outrage and the suspicion that follows him for marrying her. He pulls away from her when he realizes how cold she is. Keeping his arm around her shoulders, he guides her back inside with her leaning against him.

"I didn't think you'd notice I had left," she says softly.

"I was cold."

* * *

><p>They agree not to tell her. Though, it is more of his suggestion than hers. He thinks it will keep them happier, maybe allow Sigyn to realize her initial vision of them as a family. She agrees not to tell after making him promise that he will try harder, much harder she emphasizes, to bond with the girl. He promises, seeing a look of fear in her eyes, fear that he might forsake the girl.<p>

"And you will always consider her your own?" He asks suddenly, turning the question on her. "Even if we have other children?"

"Of course," she says, taken aback. He sees the wonder in her eyes, the perplexed expression at being questioned. He knows that he's most likely asking the wrong person, she had showed compassion for the child from the beginning whereas he, he had not. Yet, there is a method to his madness.

He touches her face. "I have to know that my daughter will have a mother's love."

"Our daughter," she corrects and he smiles, kissing her.

* * *

><p>"How do you like raising a child?" Dagmar asks. The mousy haired woman leans on her elbows, staring at Sigyn from across the table.<p>

"It's strange but I enjoy it."

"Be glad that they can tell you what they need rather than just cry." Dagmar rubs her temples, eyes squeezed shut. "And cry. And cry."

"Of course." She forces a little smile to grace her lips. She turns to avoid Dagmar's blue eyes, looking back over at where Hel plays with Dagmar's children. The child manages to join in without much struggle. Sigyn smiles, slightly relieved that the child is beginning to make friends.

"I still think it's a pity though."

Her gaze snaps back to Dagmar. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you've had to adopt a child. There's no guarantee that you'll have your own children. At least with Theoric, you would have had a family. I mean, I realize you are expected to have his children but." Her nose crinkles, disturbed at the idea of a troubled man having children who would turn out just as troubled.

"Forgive me, but I fail to see where this concerns you."

"I am your friend."

"And a very kind friend, but I would prefer that such personal matters remain personal."

"Of course." She lets her eyes fall to the table between them while Sigyn looks back at the children. Dagmar lays her hand over Sigyn's, drawing back her attention. "I think she'll be all right with them. She's better than she was before." Dagmar beams at Sigyn. "I think you're a wonderful mother to her."

* * *

><p><strong>author's note:<strong> Thank you very much for all of your encouraging words on this piece. I will continue updating as life and novel let me.


	12. Chapter 12

**12. Story**

* * *

><p>It is a question on the tip of Hel's tongue that comes as she lies against Sigyn's side, staring at the ceiling. It's general curiosity that brings it on along with a want for verification or disproval. She's heard the others talk about her parents in a tone that makes her wonder. More than once she's wanted to raise her voice, inquire what makes them believe that her mother is miserable, why they assume him so indifferent.<p>

She has yet to see them miserable or indifferent. Once when a sparring match went wrong, he stalked into the room, clutching at his arm, a laceration marring his clothes and his skin. He was bleeding, profusely it seemed, gritting his teeth. Hel sat wide-eyed as her mother calmly told her to go by Arnbjorg. She had just left the room when she worry overtook her and she sat outside, knees brought to her chest. In her mind, he could die and she felt ungrateful.

She was found by Sigyn who told her everything was all right. It had taken some reassuring and a promise that nothing traumatic had happened before Hel peered into the room, eyes falling upon his slumped form in the chair. She ran over, grasping at his uninjured arm. He'd looked up at Sigyn who smiled.

"I was worried," she said, "Father." The last word coming as a whisper, so barely there that he had to wonder if he'd heard her correctly.

"I'm fine," he said, touching her hair, mimicking Sigyn's smoothing of her hair. "I simply needed Mother's help."

She hadn't seen him look indifferent or uncaring. Her mother hadn't seemed the least bit miserable. She had been calm in the face of a problem, taking control of the situation and making it better.

"Why did you marry him?" She asks, glancing up at her mother. She wants the truth, the real answer and can think of no better source than Sigyn. Everyone else who talks in passing makes mention of her mother's burden, the depression that her mother must face all in reference to her marriage.

"Because I love him," she says, hugging Hel to her.

"Does he love you?"

"That's why he married me," she says simply.

Hel nods at this, understanding it and accepting it. She knows her mother would not lie to her, that nothing is twisted to fit a standard. And she knows that Sigyn means it when she looks into her gray eyes and she can see the honesty.

"So was it like a fairy tale?" Hel asks, leaning closer to her mother.

"Yes. Just like a story." The child yawns and Sigyn takes this as her cue to pull away and sit up. "You should sleep, little one."

"Good night, Mama."

Sigyn kisses her forehead. "Good night, little one."

"Mama?"

"Yes?" She stops only a few steps from the bed.

"Will you tell me that story?"

"I will another day. I promise."

Sigyn has only recounted the story, in true depth and detail, once. Though, Sigyn thinks, even that had account had not been wholly true. It had been a private moment with the queen, not three days after the marriage. She was called for an audience and every servant and every attendant within the area was dismissed.

Frigga had asked her to sit across from her and Sigyn had, reluctantly. "I can remember," Frigga began, "when I first met you. Such an even tempered child, patient." She had began that way, listing off all of the winning qualities that she could recall from her first impressions of Sigyn, before she finally came to the meaning of her conversation. "That was why I first tried to have you talk to my son, Loki. Though I remember you described him as 'horrible' when I inquired how your conversation went. Now you are wed to him."

The why was unspoken but still there, hanging in the silence. Frigga's eyes bored into her daughter-in-law's, wanting the answer. She had been the first one to try and introduce them, trying to cajole her son to have friends and not sulk as he did. She had directed Sigyn to the library where she knew he sat, as always, with books laid out before him.

"It's strange how things work out, isn't it?" Sigyn tucked her hands in her lap, carefully searching Frigga's face for what she knew and what she didn't.

"I suppose it could be rather amusing that the same man you described as horrible became your husband." She leaned back, still locking eyes with Sigyn. "Many believe you in a state of depression." A smile graced the queen's mouth. "But we both know you are neither depressed nor remorseful for what occurred."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Frigga retained her smile, watching Sigyn relax. "Now, what I wonder is when my son stopped being 'horrible' and became suitable for marriage."

Sigyn had matched Frigga's smile before beginning the story at the point where Frigga had left, abandoning her at the doors of the library with the request that she talk her son into leaving there so that he might attend a feast that evening.

Young and willing to comply with the queen's appeal, she had found the prince sitting as Frigga had described him, books laid out around him. She had been daring, she admitted to Frigga, sitting across from him and closing the book before him.

"Your mother wishes that you would go to a feast in honor of the marria-"

"I know very well what she wishes and I have politely declined." He opened the book, a scowl frozen in his features. "You are dismissed."

"I am not a servant to be ordered around."

"You are intruding on my studies and hardly worth my respect."

Sigyn had smiled when the queen had stared at her, the smirk disappeared and, what Sigyn suspected was a look of horror had replaced it. She told Frigga that the conversation had continued in that manner for a while. "Until, I think he became frustrated with me and decided to be rid of me by magical means."

She had not seen when his fingers had twitched, his gaze leaving her and focusing on the goblet that had been slowly pushed away. She had not seen when the snakes first uncoiled themselves and slithered across the table. She had only first noticed them when one grazed her hand, intent upon crawling up her sleeve. Without flinching, she had used her free hand to do away with them by means of a spell, causing them to turn back into liquid that stained her hand and a bit of her sleeve.

He had looked at her, she told Frigga, analyzing her. She had worn an innocent smile when she had left, telling him again, "Your mother will expect you there. I suggest not being late."

Then, she tried to describe the next year, attempting to evade giving details. Reflection had taught her that what made sense to her, seemed horrific and downright odd to others. She described the war that had ensued between them, testing the other's wits and endurance. How at one point he had transformed all of the jewelry she owned, which was little, into brittle pieces that fragmented when she touched them. Her revenge had come in the form of changing all the text of his books into nonsense. It had gone on like that, she said, ignoring the baffled look that the queen gave her.

Sigyn struggled to pinpoint when their attempts to fool the other had lessened and they had begun to actually speak civilly. She suspected it was when he had commented on her technique, showing her a way to improve it. That, she said, was when he had taken to tutoring her in magic, real magic as he described it.

She didn't bother to mention that the mischief had still continued. That she took all that he gave in stride and returned it, though it had turned into a running joke, no longer carried out with seriousness.

She did mention that she had warmed up to him, respecting him and consulting him. Then she came to the point where she described the shift, the second where they had both stared at each other and had become frightened by what had occurred.

He had been training with her, Sigyn said, averting her gaze from the queen. He had been driving her to learn a defensive spell that she had been struggling with. She had been deflecting his hits with ease and when he seemed amused to see her struggle, she reflected one of his attacks back at him.

She described the moment she had seen the smirk leave his face and how he had fallen. What she hadn't realized at the moment was that he had been pretending, that it was supposed to be something they would laugh about, that it was just a bit of fun. She had hurried to his side, believing that she had seriously wounded him. Along the way, pleas for him not to be hurt and for him to forgive her had fallen from her mouth. When she had reached his side, he had sat up, grinning. She had been flustered, tears in the corners of her eyes, telling him it wasn't at all funny while he looked at her. It was the moment she realized that she had fallen in love and it was the moment he realized that she loved him.

Frigga had nodded and Sigyn continued, describing the discomfort that had followed those next days. They had avoided each other until the day she confronted him, telling him that she may love him but she didn't expect to marry him. He had nodded and kissed her. Sigyn, however, avoided the details that she had become the prince's lover. She avoided telling the queen of the moments where, to see if she would stay with him, he had tested her. She ignored the moment that he had finally promised to never leave her, as she tended to his wounds, promising him that she would never forsake him. She completely bypassed the moment Arnbjorg had seen him leave her chambers, kissing her and had demanded his assurance that he would marry her, that it had been Arnbjorg who had pleaded to Sigyn's father that she be married and that it was with that plea that she was betrothed to Theoric.

She did mention that she had told Loki of her not wanting to marry Theoric and she botched the truth when she said that he promised he would help. She had never actually told him her worries and he had never mentioned that he would see the marriage never happened.

Frigga smiled at her, content with the version that she had received. "I see," was all she said for a while before adding, "I am glad he married you."

Sigyn returns from Hel's room, smiling, to find him already asleep, sprawled under the sheets. She lays by him and isn't surprised when he drags himself over to her, pulling her closer to him, before sinking back into sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**13. War**

* * *

><p>Hel stands, fidgeting and ready to run, Sigyn's hands holding onto her shoulders, her promise lingering in her mind. "It'll all be over soon enough." They stand, kept far behind the king and queen. Hel finds the arrangement perplexing. Her mother married a prince, their son in particular, and had become a princess. Shouldn't she be ranked among the king and queen?<p>

The king says his goodbye to the queen before marching with his sons trailing him, off to war. She sees the quick glances, between her father and mother, both wearing somber expressions. She asked Sigyn about what this war is over and Sigyn was quiet. She doesn't like to speak of war, war is what killed her father, so she gave a quiet response, telling Hel that she was unsure exactly what is being fought over. When Hel tried to ask her father, she found another elusive response. He told her not to worry about it, that it'll all be over soon enough.

She tries to watch him leave, always in pace with Thor, always three steps behind his father. He had told her that he would be leaving soon, told her not to worry and had let Sigyn put her to bed. She looks up at her mother's face, seeing the despondence meshing with the dutiful wife.

"Will he be okay, Mama?"

"Yes," she says softly.

That morning had Sigyn's fingers helping with the clasps of his armor. Hel had sat with the books on the floor, watching her mother's hands tremble as she had held out the helmet, a horned thing that Hel wondered if was necessary. Hel had sat there, watching as he had taken the thing from her, setting it aside, grasping her hands. They had stood there for a minute before a quick kiss and a quiet goodbye. He had taken his helmet, saying goodbye to Hel before leaving, expected to be with his brother and father quite immediately.

She looks up at Sigyn, tired of trying to follow the figures as they march away. "When will Father be back?"

"As soon as he can, little one."

* * *

><p>The first news that things are going poorly comes from a small band of men, all wounded, who return needing treatment. They are the beginning of the stream of those who return hurt, are healed, and go back to fight.<p>

Hel is placed into the care of Arnbjorg more and more. When she asks where her mother is going, she is told that she is joining with the healers who have found their work doubled. As healers leave Asgard to tend to the wounded on the field, there are fewer healers left behind to care for those returned.

When she is able to be with her mother, she finds her exhausted, caught between stress and worry. She begs to stay with Sigyn and she is allowed to sleep beside her mother,

Frigga spends more of her time with her daughter-in-law, even taking the girl from Arnbjorg's care to try and better understand the child. Hel enjoys this time, finding the woman very caring and compassionate for her mother. She also is amazed by the fact that this woman does not tell her mother that she should be happy when her husband is gone, that she doesn't talk as though Sigyn's marriage is a terrible one.

"When will they be back?" Hel asks Frigga, not looking at the queen, focused rather on the floor.

"They will return when they have won."

"But they aren't winning."

* * *

><p>Hel awakes to see Arnbjorg embroidering, gaze flicking up to check on her every so often. When she sees the child staring back, she sets the cloth and needle aside, already prepared to answer the child's unspoken question. "Your mother was called away. The princes have returned."<p>

They had been caught away from the rest of the men, managing to survive but not without injury. Frigga had been called when they were first taken to the healers, but before leaving, she sent a maid to fetch Sigyn. Frigga is thankful to find her sons sitting up, talking and looking well. Careful of their wounds, she hugs them both.

"We're fine, Mother," Thor says, smiling. They don't say that there was a moment when they both considered that they might be killed. That for a second, they believed they would be dead. Rather, they continue to tell their mother that they have never been better.

She wraps her arms around Loki's neck, hugging her son tight. "I was worried about you two." She stands back, looking at her sons, grown men surrounded by healers. The worst of their wounds had been attended to on the field, now fresh wraps were being applied.

Sigyn steps into the healing room, auburn hair hastily pulled back. She is calm, her voice even. "The queen requested my presence."

Loki nods at this, Thor, however, beams. "Lady Sigyn," he says. "My brother should be grateful for your arrival but as you can see, he remains in a sour mood."

Loki averts his eyes, pulling his arm away from the healer. "I am quite fine," he says, voice sharp. He stands, one hand clenching as his side aches. "I am returning to my chambers."

Frigga grasps at his hand, trying to pull him back. "It would best if you were fully treated."

"I am fine, Mother." He tugs his hand from her, looking at her. "I wish to be alone."

"All right," she says, letting her hand fall back to her side. He leaves and she turns her attention to Thor and Sigyn. "Perhaps, Lady Sigyn, you might see that he is as well as he says."

"Mother, you should not subject Sigyn to Loki's temperament."

"She is his wife," Frigga says quickly. She appreciates his concern but finds it frustrating. Frigga looks at Sigyn before asking, "Would you?"

"Of course," she says, bowing before leaving.

"You're cruel to Sigyn, Mother. Subjecting her to Loki like that."

"It is a wife's duty to see to her husband."

* * *

><p>He hates being weak, being a pathetic sight to be tended to. His brother always only has minor wounds, it always made their father proud. He was glad to see a son so like a warrior early in life. Yet, where one son could escape the cuts and bruises, he had been the one to get them. He had been told magic wasn't acceptable in their sparring, that it was disgraceful for a man to hide behind illusions. More than once he had come to his mother, lip split, a dark ring forming on his face.<p>

He stalks down the hall, holding his posture, refusing to touch at his wound. He holds his head high until the door is closed behind him and he clenches his teeth, struggling to reach his bed, falling into it, hand splayed across the place where he was shot.

He had not been quick enough, his magic hadn't been strong enough. He buries his face in his pillow, muffling his curses. His father wouldn't have been surprised, he knows this, Odin has always expected Loki to fail, for Thor to save him. Thor did keep him from dying but he had kept them from being killed. While Thor could hold off one or two with brute strength, he had masked them, keeping them hidden until they could be found by their own warriors.

He had been weak. He had feared dying, feared both of them dying. He thought he had seen their end, a gruesome one without respite.

She comes, standing over his crumpled form. "Where is it?" With a hissed breath, he turns onto his back, letting her examine the wound, fingers barely gracing it. She sighs, searching through bottles kept on his desk until she finds a cream that can be applied. "You should learn to let them treat you. You're getting a reputation."

He keeps his eyes on her face as she smoothes the cream over the open wound. "How was she?"

"Worried. We both were." She finishes, setting it aside and pressing a cloth against his injury. Her face is pale, sleepless nights and working have taken their toll on her.

"You look sick." He touches her face.

"I'm fine." She looks at him. "And when I say fine, I don't mean bleeding copiously and biting back on a scream." She wraps the wound before turning attention to the cuts that he had stopped the healer from treating. "I applied some numbing ointment which should stop you from gnashing your teeth for a while." A smile appears at the corner of her lips. "If you keep that up, you'll have no teeth." She makes most of the scraps recede into nothing before returning her attention to the larger gash. "What happened?"

"An arrow. They removed any poison and the head before we returned."

"You'll need stitches," she says, not bothering to look at him. "Otherwise it won't close."

"Fine."

"I'll be back."

She leaves and he lays still, finding less movement better for his aching body. When she comes back, he grimaces. She doesn't thread the needle in front of him but he knows what is on the verge of happening. He braces himself, jaw clenched, eyes closed when her hand touches his cheek.

"Remember what I said? You'll have no teeth."

He moves to smile when he sees the glint of the needle and realizes that, though minor, he can still feel it.


	14. Chapter 14

**14. Loss**

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><p>He twists in his sleep, reawakening the pain of the stitches in his side. He sucks in a sharp breath of air, clutching at the sheets until his knuckles turn white. She's gone from his side, half-awake, taking the jar of ointment in her hand and pushing back on his shoulder to make him face her.<p>

She spreads the cream across the wound, setting down the jar before glancing at him. He takes her hand, holding it, running his thumb over her knuckles. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine." She kisses him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"I can try to make it heal quicker but it's deep." A sad smile graces her lips. She wishes she might make him better, it's what she always tries when he comes to her wounded. "I'm sorry, love."

"It's all right."

When Hel had come in, Arnbjorg chasing her, she had found him sitting by his desk, lazily flipping through a book of spells, one hand hovering over his side. Sigyn had been going through the jars, examining the contents, trying to find something that would speed up the healing process. Hel had bounded in before being slowed by Sigyn who caught her. "He's hurting, little one." She let Hel go. "Be careful."

"Are you okay?" She asks, coming up beside him, searching him for signs of injury.

"I'm quite fine." He kissed her forehead, smiling at her. "You shouldn't worry."

"Mama was worried."

"She shouldn't worry either." The smile remained. "I am perfectly fine."

He draws her closer to him, kissing her. "I will have to return."

She tenses, gray eyes searching his face. "What do you mean?"

"It's not over, Sigyn." He touches her cheek. "I'll have to go back."

She sits up, pulling away from his touch. "You're hurt terribly. You can't pretend to be well and go and end up coming back worse."

"I'll be fine. You don't need to worry."

"Someone has to worry, you don't." She looks into the darkness, sighing. "Is there a way you can avoid going?"

"No."

She closes her eyes, exhaling sharply. "I don't like you leaving."

"I know." He sits up, struggling past the soreness. "But I have to."

"Please don't."

"I promised you I would return and I will." He kisses her. "Do not worry. I will be safe and I will come back."

* * *

><p>They leave when Thor decides. He is quiet when he leaves, hardly speaking to her but kneeling before Hel. "I promise I will come back." He touches her hair, glancing into matching green eyes. "And I need you to promise me something. Take care of Mother."<p>

"Yes, Father. I promise."

"Good girl." He kisses her forehead before leaving. Hel does not hear what he says to Sigyn, the words coming too softly, her mother shaking her head. Then he is gone, off to find Thor and return to fight.

Hel watches her mother's lips tremble, how she brings her hand to her mouth. "He'll be all right Mama. He promised."

"I know, Hel." Her hand grasps at the girl's shoulder, squeezing it. "I know."

After setting up her marriage to Theoric, her father had been called away to battle, told to take up arms and fight for a cause that Odin had deemed necessary. He had left pleased to know that his daughter would be well cared for should anything happen, Theoric had gave his pledge to take care of Sigyn.

When they had returned with word of her father's death, Theoric had embraced her, promising her that she would be safe with him. She had abandoned Arnbjorg who had kept a vigil with her and gone to him, stumbling into his arms. She had cried, grieving and praying.

She tells Hel to go to Arnbjorg, leaving her to be alone.

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><p>He is putting his father ahead of her, he knows that and it hurts him. He's made an effort to always consider her first, to be mindful of what she needs, what she feels over what Odin demands. He took the risk when he married her, later when he agreed to keep the child, even when he saw the anger in his father's face.<p>

Yet, he's ignored one of the things that hurts her the most, the fact that war takes more people than it makes heroes of. He has never promised that he would not go to war, he has only promised he would return, a promise he intended on keeping.

Thor glances at his brother as they prepare to travel. "Does something trouble you?"

"No." He keeps his chin up, face neutral. When they leave, when they are being throttled forward, she is the last thing he sees.

* * *

><p>Hel watches her mother slip away, not sleeping, barely there. The queen comes whenever she can slip away, sitting across from her mother and talking to her. Often it's about Loki. But once, Frigga comes and sits across from her.<p>

"It's to end soon. They'll be returning after a treaty is established." Frigga smiles at her daughter-in-law. "But another concern has arisen."

The calm that overtakes Sigyn's features becomes distorted. "Which is?"

"When the princes lives were in danger, when it became apparent that they could both be lost, a question arose about succession." Frigga's expression softens. "About the next heir, if both princes were lost." She sighs, touching Sigyn's arm. "An answer that falls on you, dear."


	15. Chapter 15

**15. Return**

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><p>The second when Odin had been forced to consider both princes lost had been a troubling one. When the two were no where to be seen, no one had heard from them or had an inkling of where they might be, he had let his mind consider what could happen. There were no other children of his own, none that could claim the throne. He would have no other children and the closest thing to an heir was Loki's wife. He had shuddered at the notion, finding it disturbing to have the throne of Asgard tied to whomever Sigyn married and bore children with.<p>

He paces, this weighing heavily on his mind. He knows he should order Thor to find a bride himself, that it will be Thor on the throne and as such, Thor must have heirs himself. Yet, should the times call for it, he might accept a son of Loki.

He rubs at his forehead, a throbbing sensation having taken over. It would be a matter he would have to discuss with Loki. He couldn't order the boy to have children but he could make the request that Loki consider the future of Asgard. He is not sure how Loki would take it but he feels there can be more success with Loki than with Thor finding a wife. Though Sigyn would surely hate him for it, told to bear sons with a man she had grown to hate.

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><p>They are gone for far too long, Loki thinks when he finally sees the outline of the city. He marches, happy for his wound to have healed over before he returns. He would prefer to not have Sigyn see it though he's afraid the faint scar will be all she'll need to recall it. He winces at how they left, fearing she will still carry a grudge about it, that she will hate him for it.<p>

While the crowds cheer for Odin, shout for Thor, there is no one who beckons for him. He closes his eyes, sighing when he realizes she's not there. He had known she would not be there, but part of him had hoped she might make an appearance, that standing far away, she would looking for him, perhaps even smiling. He shuffles into the masses, following Odin and Thor, pretending that he is not hurt by the lack of praise shouted in his name.

Hel stands by Frigga, watching for the first faces that appear amongst the returning warriors. She smiles when her eyes fall upon him, face lighting up. Frigga lets the girl go, watching her dash between the crowds, hurrying towards him, grasping for him.

While the men who return mix into the crowd, finding their wives and children, she seeks him out, scurrying between people who could easily trample her. While Odin prepares to speak, she finds herself at his feet, the same ridiculous grin still on her face.

He gathers her into his arms, a smile lighting his features. She wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him.

"Where is Mother?" He asks, softly.

"She's with the healers." Her voice quiets when she adds, "she's still angry with you."

"I know she is." He kisses her forehead, setting her down. "She has reason to be."

"What is that?"

"When you are older, I will tell you."

She frowns, taking his hand in her two smaller ones, pulling him through the crowd. "If she is mad, shouldn't you apologize?"

"I will, Hel." He tugs her back towards him. "But if we're going to miss Odin's speech, we must be quiet about it."

She nods, lips pressed tight before continuing to pull him away. She wants him to go to her, to apologize for whatever he's done and make her mother happy again. She is tired of seeing her mother upset, frustrated at him. She notices he pulls his hand from her, taking off his helmet.

She opens her mouth to speak but he holds a finger to his lips and she remains quiet. In the background, Odin's voice booms, declaring their success at suppressing the enemy and securing a treaty that greatly favors them.

At the entrance to the healing ward, he crouches down by Hel, setting the helmet beside him on the ground. "Go to Arnbjorg and wait for us to come for you." She nods but before she runs off, he keeps hold of her arm, staring at her. "Stay with her. None of this running off. You'll kill that woman one of these days."

"Mama used to sneak away from her-"

"When Mother did it, she was older and had better reasons." He pushes back a stray lock of dark hair. "Now go and remember, stay with her, Hel."

"All right."

The child is out of sight before he can catch a glimpse of her. Sighing, he picks up the helmet and enters the ward, completely vacated save for two people. A wounded warrior lies on a bed, Sigyn tending to his bandages that stretch across his chest.

"We were victorious," he says.

"Of course you were." She pins the wrap in place, looking down at the sleeping face of her patient, glad for his pain to be eased. "Are you in good health?"

"Yes." He looks at the ground, waiting for some kind of wrath. Yet, when there is none, he glances up and sees the look in her eyes that makes him wonder why he didn't simply stay. She bites her lip, a sad look in her eyes that eats at him. "Sigyn-" He takes one step forward, but she's already run to him and he wraps his arms around her, letting the helmet clatter to the ground. "I'm sorry."

"You let your ego get the better of you again," she says, closing her eyes. "You should have stayed. At least until you were fully healed."

"I know." He kisses her, palm pressed against her cheek.

"Did you see Hel?"

"Yes." He doesn't tell her how happy he was to see someone smile at him, be glad to see him, someone who ran to him. Sigyn had always been made to restrain herself, to linger back. It was what was expected of her, a lady and a member of the royal court. But a child, especially one considered nothing more than a little urchin that Sigyn had become fond of, was held to no such bounds. "You sent her in your place."

"Someone had to stay behind to tend to the wounded."

"And you volunteered." He smiles, laughing. He knows that the healers were quite happy to oblige her, always assuming her to have such a terrible marriage. It would not surprise him, if they had encouraged her to stay behind, offering her a few more minutes of solace before the violent husband they assumed him to be returned. "My Sigyn, always so noble."

"Someone has to be." She pulls away from him, glancing around. "Where is Hel?"

"I told her to find Arnbjorg and stay there."

"She won't listen."

"She's like you." His grin widens.

She raises an eyebrow, restraining a laugh. "When she's a troublemaker, she's suddenly just like me. I take it that whenever she's perfect, she'll be just like you?"

"Of course."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> College and writing do not mix well unless that writing is for college papers.


	16. Chapter 16

**16. Guilt**

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><p>It's a conversation that leaves him storming from the room, features contorted between anger and disgust, and Odin sitting there, furious at his son's behavior. It was expected to be a terrible conversation, Odin concedes, but he hadn't expected the way his son had stared at him, the words coming fast from his mouth.<p>

"You're ordering me to have children?"

There had been a sneer, a frown manifesting itself when he said it to Odin, as though unable to comprehend the idea that his father would order such a thing. The look had pained the king, still able to envision the boy who's love he had once held. He had wanted to tell him that he wasn't ordering any such thing rather reminding his son that a prince should consider the possibility of heirs, that he should realize what being in line to the throne meant.

Yet, there had been no time for that. The dark-haired boy, no, man, Odin corrects himself, had left after flatly telling him that he refused such orders and would not have his father telling him when he should have children with his wife and when he should not.

Of his sons, it was unfortunate that the difficult one had married first, though the reason behind it still eluded him. He had always assumed that it would be an arranged marriage for Thor, a political union that his son would consent to, and no marriage for Loki. Loki, with his temperament and distrust of everyone, seemed an unlikely candidate to have married at all. Odin, in later years, had come to imagine his role as an advisor to Thor when the elder became king.

Odin sighs, sinking in his chair. It had been easier when they were children. They had both had their flaws but they were manageable. Children could be told and they would listen, though it followed a string of complaints and dragging feet. They had listened to him them, he thinks. They had looked up to him with admiration shining in their eyes and listened to his stories without rolling eyes and telling him that they had heard that before.

Losing Thor's attention had come last and hit the hardest. His sons were men and trying to show they didn't need him anymore. When Thor had interrupted him as he tried to tell of his past experience and told him that he knew the story well and did not care to hear it again, Odin had been hurt. The last son who he had held the favor of had dismissed his advice with a casual wave.

He had lost Loki long ago, though the boy's affections had never truly been his. Smiles and eager readiness to help had belonged to Frigga. The boy had consulted his mother on matters that he would only hear about when Frigga described it later that evening, always swearing him to never mention it to Loki. He never had, always secretly wishing the boy might have come to him on his own. He'd accepted it would never happen though and took comfort that the child hadn't distanced himself from both of them completely. But that, too, had happened in time.

Odin tries to focus on the document before him, a political alliance that is filled with the dense elaborate language, but instead wonders if it had been during that time when his younger son had further separated himself that he had changed. He wonders if it was during that time that marriage became a more acceptable notion, if he had taken to fancying the girl Sigyn then. Sighing again, he focuses on the words, putting the notion of Loki marrying for love out of his mind.

* * *

><p>He finds her amongst the flowers, guiding Hel through the names of the different plants. She points out the flowers and laughs when Hel plucks the ones she prefers best, creating a bouquet of varying colors in her hands.<p>

Hel spies him first, coming down stone steps, attempting to withdraw the scowl that lingers. The girl beams and runs over, holding out the mismatched bunch of flowers to him. "Look," she says, waiting for a smile.

He takes them from her, trying to recall the exact names that Sigyn had given them when he'd followed her once before, clasping at her hand, half-listening and half-considering what about the woman had kept him so loyal. "They're very beautiful."

"Mama has been teaching me their names."

"Perhaps you'll remember their names better than I." He hands them back to her, glancing at Sigyn who smiles. "And perhaps I might keep one of them?"

Hel looks at him, confused at his request. The only times he had ever seemed interested in plants was when her mother had been around them, tending to them, and even then she had seen that they were fleeting glances. "Which one?"

"This one." He points at the rose nestled in the middle. "Only if you would not mind."

With some hesitation she takes the flower and gives it to him. She keeps a tight grip on the rest, suspicious of his motives. She watches him carefully as he steps over to Sigyn, holding out the flower. She's amused when her mother doesn't take it first from his fingers, instead hitting his arm.

"Stealing flowers from children, now? That's terrible."

But his grin makes her accept, taking the rose, a small smile on her lips. Yet all remnants of happiness leave his face when he remembers why he had sought her out. "I need to speak to you later."

Sigyn nods, already knowing what he wants to discuss. "Of course."

Hel scurries over, glancing between her parents, noting the solemn expressions. Ignoring the seriousness, she takes his hand, tugging him over to the flower beds. "I want to show you something." She lists off the names she's learned while pointing out the plants. He tries harder this time to pay attention, repeating back the ones he finds peculiar.

Sigyn settles on a bench, watching the sight play out, giggles escaping from behind her hand. She knows he shouldn't seem so perplexed at the names, she's told him them before. Of course, she had assumed then that he wasn't listening since his only response then had been to nod and let her continue. Sometimes she wonders if he didn't do that more often than not before, simply nod and let her speak without any intent of actually learning.

"I'm impressed," he says when Hel has exhausted the list she has learned. "You'll be far more clever than I am very soon."

She beams, happy for his praise. "That's not true," she says, a blush reaching her cheeks.

"I don't know," he says, smirking. When she goes to repeat the names to herself, forcing them into memory, he steps over to Sigyn, sitting beside her.

"She likes to learn," she says, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps you could teach her."

"I have little time that is my own and-"

"It would be a chance for you and her to bond. It doesn't have to be complicated. You could just talk to her, tell her what you know."

"I know."

"Then do it."

* * *

><p>He waits until the evening, when she is running a brush through her hair, undoing the knots that day created. "The All-Father wished to speak to me on an interesting matter this morning."<p>

"Which was?" She knows the answer but won't reveal it to him. She had assumed that the conversation would remain solely between her and the queen, that Odin would never take it up. She had assumed that she could have ended the need for father and son to even have the conversation, telling the queen that she would speak to him in her own time and that Odin would not need to. She had assumed incorrectly.

"With our last campaign, my father has decided that it would be in the benefit of the realm for there to be a better established line of succession, that simply having two princes is not enough." He bites back on his anger, trying to not let her see the same sharpness that Odin had.

"He wants you to have a son."

He nods, watching her set the brush down and study him. "He thinks that it would be best for-"

"What do you want?"

He is caught off-guard. "What?"

"The All-Father would demand you to have sons but he will not raise them. The more important matter is do you want children."

"I- I don't know."

She sees it in a flash, the look that crosses his features. She sees the guilt in his eyes, the self-loathing. For as much happiness that Hel has brought him, there is more self-condemnation. Her parentage had brought that about and Sigyn had been left to combat it, trying to assure him that it hadn't been his fault. Her heart aches at his insistence to despise himself, to always second-guess himself.

"What about you?" He turns the question on her when she remains silent. He tries to prepare himself for whatever she might say, telling himself that he's not worried if she says that she would like a child.

"Not yet."

He closes his eyes, thankful for the answer. She kisses him, wearing a smile.

"What will you say to the All-Father if he brings up the matter?" She asks. She wants to stop him from fighting, from distancing himself.

A mischievous smile curls on his lips. "I will tell him to take the matter up with Thor."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thank you for the lovely reviews. They keep me continuing to write.


	17. Chapter 17

**17. Lose**

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><p>At the formal celebration, she remains sitting beside him, watching the others grow drunk and rowdy. Hel left earlier, Sigyn glad to see her in Arnbjorg's care before the alcohol had begun to take effect.<p>

She knows Odin's comments still bother him. Only once has he ever confided that he feels he'll never be anything in Odin's eyes. He'd said it when his guard was down, Thor having made him drink, and in his drunken state, he had confessed to her, partially angry and partially crying. It had been before they were married and she had been left to wonder what else he hid away.

She sees the impassive expression that shifts to a frown every so often. In their quiet corner, she grasps at his hand, lacing their fingers. He looks at her suddenly and she smiles. She wishes that just once he might have fun, step away from his analyzing ways and enjoy himself. She wishes that he might understand that he is loved.

He relaxes, holding onto her hand. She's content when the frown ebbs and a warmer expression replaces it. While the others turn to dancing and creating a ruckus, many of the loudest are those fawning over Thor who has proved himself to be a warrior once again, she stands, wishing to pull him away with her. She doesn't want to be here, here they are confined to the roles that the world would have them play. He is not supposed to love or be at all personable, they dictate. He is a maker of mischief who would seek to ruin good moments while she is pure of heart, always with the best intentions. She listens to the gossip of the women who she must smile at, unable to protest when they tell her how much happier she would have been married to Theoric. They believe her husband to be unfaithful to her, that he seeks only to hurt her. They regard her lack of staying by them as his doing, that he is crushing her.

He stands with her, happy to leave. She lets go of his hand, the smile still on her lips while he follows her. They have almost made their escape when Thor finds them, catching Loki's shoulder in his hand. "Come now, Brother. You should stay and enjoy the feast." While he tries to shrug his way from his brother's grasp, Sigyn stops, the smile gone, knowing how close they were.

"We were leaving."

"I'm sure Lady Sigyn didn't wish to leave." Thor smiles at her and Sigyn can't even attempt to match it, disheartened at the failed attempt to leave. He takes her hand, still beaming and proud of himself. "Come dance with me. Then Loki may be free to sulk and you might still enjoy yourself."

He doesn't look for the anger in his brother's face when he draws her to return with him to the festivities and while he assumes that Loki stalks off somewhere, most likely the library, he doesn't notice that he remains, always watching.

"You look very beautiful," he says, looking her over, wondering how such a woman could stand his brother. She wore flowers in her hair, no jewels at her throat and a simple mauve gown.

She tries to tug away her hand. "I should go with him."

"He will only brood." He pulls her into the dance, smiling at her. "You should not be subjected to him in such states. Besides, everyone shall be jealous when they see who I have to dance with."

"You are too severe with Loki. You assume him so terrible."

"And you are very kind to try and see the best in my brother, but his nature is what it is. There is no changing him." He keeps her by him, attracting the glances he had expected. He laughs when he sees Theoric look over, casting his gaze away from the girl who his mother has set for him to marry.

"I should go, Thor."

"Please stay, Sigyn."

"No, Thor."

"Sigyn," he says, keeping hold of her hand. He wonders what draws her to his brother so, the same man who had once driven away any woman who had feelings for him. He had seen him be so cold, so calculating and all without remorse, yet he had gained the heart of someone so sweet. "Please stay." It seemed more likely for him to have married Sigyn than Loki. The two simply didn't match and would seem a couple caught in endless spats that would have him storming away and leave her in tears.

"I can't, Thor." She pulls away from him, leaving the room. He stands and watches her, pitying that she must be married to such an unpredictable character.

He catches her the second she steps out the door, pulling her into his arms, hiding her in the shadows with him. "What took you?" He asks quietly, kissing her.

"Your brother."

"He will have to be dealt with later." He smiles, glad to have her back. "He should know better than to keep company with married women."

She doesn't tell him that Thor takes pity on her, that he thinks so poorly of Loki. She touches his cheek, matching his smile.

"We should leave before he has the notion to follow you."

They had to endure several speeches, all praising the actions that Odin had taken and the fallen warriors. The battles had been recounted in a sanitized form, the only true violent moment mentioned was that of when the princes had been considered lost, but this had been followed by the joyful story of their recovery and how they had gone back into battle after being healed. She had seen Loki tense when the story was recounted for that had been Odin's basis for their conversation. Had both sons been lost there would have been no one to take the throne.

"He wouldn't."

He laughs, taking her hand and leading her away. "Thor likes to believe himself a hero. He will want to save you."

She walks in pace with him, letting him wrap his arm around her shoulders. "And when I do not wish to be saved?"

"He will take you." He kisses her, keeping up the charade that he means it with humor. Yet, it is a very real fear to him. When she had become betrothed to Theoric, that thought had eaten him alive. That someone he cared for could be taken so easily, snatched away from him, bothered him. It had become the driving force for him to interrupt the marriage, to take Theoric's place and have her vows of faithfulness pledged to him instead. Now, it still remains a fear to him. He fears that they will find a way to have those vows broken even though Odin himself could find no way.

She parts from him to check on Hel, promising she'll meet him in their room. He is reluctant to let her go but instead nods and continues on. She expected the child to be asleep and is glad when she spies Hel sleeping peacefully. Arnbjorg finds her, telling her how the child behaved herself.

"Thank you," she says.

"How was your evening?"

"Good." She smiles at her old caretaker. "It was very pleasant."

She can still recall the look on the woman's face when she had come into her room, musing aloud when she had stopped in the doorway, eyes wide. There she had settled upon the sight that had seemed so unreal. The second prince kissing her charge, mussed hair and a shy smile on her lips. The woman had assumed the worse and had promptly ordered a promise from the prince. He had reacted like Sigyn had known he would, blatantly telling off the woman before leaving. And that was when she had consulted Sigyn's father, pushing for her to become betrothed, saying she needed a husband.

"That is good."

"Thank you very much, Arnbjorg." She smiles at the woman, knowing that Arnbjorg's feelings for him could never be changed. Even if Sigyn had told her all of the reasons why she had fallen in love, told the old nursemaid of all the kind words he had whispered to her, described how he wasn't like what they said, Arnbjorg would never waiver in her dislike and distrust.

* * *

><p>He awakes suddenly, hands gripping onto the sheets as though to save himself.<p>

In his dreams, their marriage is broken. Odin finds a way and the vows are voided. When he is told of this, he sees Thor behind their father, smiling, and he sees the gleam of happiness in Odin's eyes. His jaw clenches, hands trembling from anger. Without a second thought, she is promptly wed to Theoric who has abandoned the girl that his mother chose. And then he sees her only in passing, a ghost whose eyes are always downcast.

His breathing settles when he sees her on her side, facing away from him. As if she knows, she turns, wiping away the sleep from her eyes.

"What is it?" She asks softly.

"Nothing."

She kisses him, settling in his arms. "Tell me what is bothering you." When he is quiet, she looks at him, gray eyes searching his. "You're worried, I can see that."

"Do you wish that you had not married me?"

She freezes, staring at him. "Never." She touches his face, seeing the despondency still in his eyes. "I only wish that we might have married in more accepting circumstances." She kisses him again, trying to will away his melancholy.

And he wishes that too. If he hadn't wasted time and asked for her to marry him, he would not have to consider the reality that some day they might find the loophole that they all sought to save Sigyn. If he had been bolder, braver and had gone up to her father and told the old man of his intentions to marry his daughter, he wouldn't have to sleep with worry gnawing at his mind. He'd let her almost be taken because he hadn't been willing to face commitment.

"As do I," he says softly, holding her closer.

He has imagined what their wedding might have been like had it truly been theirs. She would have smiled at him, happiness being seen in her features rather than reluctance. Instead of being dressed as those around her saw fit, jewels scattered into her hair, a piece of borrowed jewelry around her neck, she would have worn flowers in her hair. She had always preferred flowers, finding them to represent life, rather than the cold metal they decided fit for the occasion.

"But, all things considered," she says, a smile appearing on her lips as she meets his gaze. "I found our wedding most amusing."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thank you for the lovely reviews. Based upon them, ideas are churning for the next chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

**18. Lie**

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><p>Theoric approaches her grinning. He sits close to her, hardly able to contain himself. "There is a way for you to leave him." He doesn't look at her, the pride swelling in him. "Odin may not be able to dissolve the marriage, but you can. You need only tell how cruel he has been and-"<p>

"No."

"But Sigyn," he says, leaning closer to her. "It would be quick, you would announce to Odin that you had reason to leave him, tell the All-Father and then it can be over. The law states that while outsiders may not break the marriage, you may. You or he might break the marriage if there was reason to." He doesn't say that he feels that the prince is only keeping her as a prize. "You need only tell the All-Father how he has treated you."

"No, Theoric."

"And we could marry and everything could be as it should have been." He smiles at her, wishing she might look at him. He loved her before she was betrothed to him, always watching her from a distance as she had been one of the free women of the court. She was said to have been pure, a girl who had been waiting for a proposal that she found acceptable. He had never had the courage to ask for her hand, accepting that he would have to pine for her from afar.

"No, Theoric."

He pulls back, the smile falling from his mouth. "Is this about that girl? You can keep her if she amuses you so. I will not stop you." He looks around as she steps away from him to tend to the flowers of Frigga's garden. "Where is she?"

"Being tutored." She doesn't add that it is Loki who has been guiding her studies and that is the reason she has left them alone to work.

"You would raise her like she were a member of the royal court." He laughs, stepping over to her, touching at her hair. "Naive Sigyn."

She brushes away his hand, inspecting the leaves of the the first plant, eyes narrowing at the yellowing splotches. She concentrates on her work, wishing it to be enough to send him away. She wishes that Loki might come, leave with him and know that Theoric would not follow her.

"I suggest you speak to Odin this evening, the sooner his abuse reaches the All-Father's ear, the sooner you may be free of that wretch."

He leaves, kissing her cheek. She frowns, looking back at him. He is a good man clouded by the deception he faced, she thinks. Yet, his need to believe that he knows what is in her best interests is what bothers her the most about him and makes it harder for her to create an excuse for him.

When she returns to them, she bites back on a laugh. While he continues to silently read from a spell book spread across his lap, Hel has fallen asleep, laying against him, using his arm as her pillow. Smiling, she decides to not tell him about Theoric, knowing he would only turn the poor man into some insignificant creature.

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><p>Theoric waits for news that the marriage has been broken. He is on edge awaiting it. He waits two days, expecting an announcement to be made that the second prince is no longer wed, that Sigyn has become free again. He decides that when such a declaration is made he will break his current betrothal, one that his mother arranged, to a poorly educated, dowdy lady of court quickly. He's already prepared to tell Odin of his decision to marry Sigyn, deciding to that announcement be made as soon as possible. He would have them marry as quickly as possible, hesitation simply invited trouble from the scorned prince.<p>

When Theoric does not hear any such thing, he approaches Odin. He proposes the same notion that he had when the two had been intially married, that there must be some way to have the marriage broken.

"There is nothing that can be done."

"What if there was trickery involved? Could it then be broken if she were held against her will?"

"Lady Sigyn has made no accusations that she is held against her will."

"She would not be able to if she were under the influence of magic."

The All-Father stares at the young man, finding him a peculiar man. He has never seen a man like this, willing to do anything to try and claim what should have been his, even if it means destroying another marriage. He finds it sad that Theoric cannot move on, take notice of the girl he has been set to marry. He had tried to tell him once that Sigyn had chosen her path when she had not raised a claim against Loki. She could have when the discovery was first made, she could have demanded then and there that she wanted the marriage be broken due to Loki's deceit. Yet, she had remained loyal to him, keeping all the vows that she had given to the trickster. It had been enough to make Odin think that she had known it to be Loki all along.

From behind the king, Thor steps forward, eyes narrowed at Theoric. "Father, Loki would do no such thing. He would never trap a woman with magic."

"What reasoning do you have to bring such an accusation, Theoric?"

In a round-about explanation, he elaborates on the relationship that he had shared with Sigyn. He emphasizes that she had once told him that she loved him, that she had promised herself to him, that though it was an arranged marriage love was behind it. Then, he continues his story with the fact that one day she had stopped caring, turned cold as he described it. He ignores the look Thor gives him, trying to place emphasis that there had been a change in his wife-to-be, that it had been quite sudden. When he finishes, he waits for Odin, awaiting the answer he expects to come from the All-Father's mouth. Surely, he might dissolve the marriage over such matters.

"Thor, bring Loki here."

The elder prince is all too willing to leave and fetch his brother. He has always found his brother's behavior strange but Loki is his brother and he hates to hear such lies brought against him. He knows his brother incapable of doing such a thing, capturing Sigyn with magic and holding her in a marriage she did not want.

Odin and Theoric wait, the young man hoping that the distrust that so many place on Loki will be enough. He freezes when he sees the smile that Thor wears when he returns. Trailing not far behind Loki is Sigyn, he can sense the glare that is in her eyes. He is crestfallen when he realizes it's directed at him. When Loki stands before Odin, she takes her place beside him.

"Lady Sigyn," Odin says, amused at the sight. He would not have believed that she would follow him and yet, he would have been disappointed if she hadn't. "I had requested Loki's presence."

"I am staying," she says, remaining firmly rooted in place.

"If you wish." Odin looks at Theoric, who has paled, losing most of his nerve. "Now, if you would repeat your charges."

"I believe-" He looks at Sigyn seeing the way she stands so close to Loki, pressing against his arm even. "I believe Lady Sigyn to be under the influence of magic."

Odin glances at his son, relieved to see a show of emotion. He is glad to see that anger is there, threatening to surface on his features. It shows that he cares, Odin thinks, that perhaps he might care for Sigyn.

Beside Loki, Sigyn stiffens. This is the world they live in, she thinks. Where women are weak, easily manipulated and easily taken. She knows this would have been her life with Theoric. That he would have always considered her the weaker sex, the one he needed to protect. Loki has never considered her so weak, never superseded her.

While Odin looks at his younger son, thankful to see the emotion, no one notices the way their fingers graze each other, the way she inches closer to him, the way he considers taking her hand, clutching it close to him.

"What are your thoughts on the accusations?" The king asks the younger prince.

"They are absurd and have no reasonable basis other than his desire for another man's wife."

"She should have been my wife," Theoric says, turning on Loki.

"Have you still not realized that she is not and there is nothing that you can do?"

Theoric turns to Odin, pointing at the prince. "His deceit is the only reason he was wed to her."

Odin sees the sneer forming on his second son's face and looks at Sigyn before his son can spew whatever insult he has conjured up. "And your thoughts?"

She pushes back the smile she considers wearing. "I can assure you I am under no such enchantment. And I can assure you I have no intention of leaving the father of my child." She only smiles when she sees the way their faces pale. Her gray eyes shine when she sees Theoric look deathly white and Odin stare at her. She wants to laugh when she knows the words have fully registered with him and he blanches. "Now, if the matter is settled, I should like to return to Hel."

"It is settled," Odin says, still bemused by his daughter-in-law.

"Good." She turns sharply and leaves, near to tears at containing the laughter that threatens to escape. He follows her, frowning at her, examining her.

"Is it true?" He asks, whispering it into her ear when they've gotten far enough away that he doesn't feel he'll be overheard.

"No," she replies. "And they'll have to be told but it should discourage Theoric." She bites into her lip, remembering her conversation with Frigga. "And appease Odin, at least for a little while," she says. She looks at him, watching the color return to his face.

"And how do you expect to tell them?" He frowns, feeling she has missed a vital step of her plan.

She shrugs, meeting his gaze. "I will tell them I made a mistake. Women make them all the time with such matters."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Your suggestions have been duly noted and will be incorporated in later chapters.


	19. Chapter 19

**19. Old**

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><p>She slips quietly into Frigga's private chambers, pressing her back against the door when servants walk past her, keeping their gaze averted. The queen beams when she sees the girl, stepping over to her, embracing her. "A congratulations are in order."<p>

"That's what I came to speak to you about."

She pulls back from the girl, searching her face. "What do you mean?"

"I made a mistake." She feigns the innocence and sorrow that is expected, masking all true intentions. Experience has taught her to fake these emotions, to appease the person she speaks to. "My- I-," she stutters, glancing at the ground, focusing on it. She feels terrible about lying to Frigga. Yet, she feels, it must be done.

"I shall speak to the All-Father," she says, touching the girl's cheek. "I shall see that he understands."

There is a sigh of relief, Sigyn's shoulders slump. "Thank you."

"Did you tell him?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He said not to worry about it." She knows Frigga assumes him disappointed, that he had liked the idea of a child. She does not dare to contradict, share with her the relief she saw on his face when she told him it was a lie.

She touches Sigyn's hand, a smile surfacing. "That is good." She lets her hand rest on Sigyn's shoulders, drawing the girl away from the door, keeping her smile. "How is Hel?"

"She has begun her studies." She musters a weak smile, the guilt bitter in her mouth. Yet, she thinks, this has not been the first time she has lied to the queen. She lied when she denied having any relationship with the prince, worsening it when she had promised she was untouched, and she had lied when she had affirmed that Hel was an orphan, despite knowing that she was Loki's child then. She forces a pleasant expression, beaming at the queen. She relaxes, though, able to change the topic. "He is tutoring her."

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><p>Frigga sits on the edge of their bed, glancing up at her husband. She can still recall the moment when she had first seen him newly missing his eye. He had made an effort to hide it from her, to pretend that all had been well. He had grimaced when she moved his hand, telling him it did not matter, that she was thankful he was alive. It had been that he had showed her the child, masked as an Aesir.<p>

"What is on your mind?" He asks, only throwing a quick glance at her.

He had taken it as well as she had expected. He had understood like she knew he would, though his concluding statement of "at least they are trying" had made her frown.

"I was simply thinking about when our children were young." She smiles, finding it easy to remember Thor as a baby in her arms. She had never considered then that he might grow into a man, turn away from her embraces with embarrassment tinging his cheeks pink. She had struggled to accept that someday Loki might marry and seek counsel from someone else.

Odin sits beside her. "They were both prone to misbehaving," he says, realizing that it still applies, though the consequences has become far more severe.

"Yes." She can remember the trouble they would get into, the punishments and sometimes the arguments. They had been practically twins, she thinks, and had always kept quiet on who had first brought up the idea. They had held a bond, keeping the other's secret and promising never to tell on the other. Yet, when stress was put on to find out who was truly at fault, they had sometimes broke. One would point at the other, the other would begin to shout his denials. Only once had they needed to be separated, attempting to come to blows.

"What brought this on?" He asks, watching her caught in her reverie.

"Our children are at the point of having their own children." She sighs, feeling suddenly very old. It seems so long ago that she first looked into Loki's green eyes, nodding furiously to her husband that she would accept him, that she would not have another woman raise him. She had whispered that to him, holding him closely, promising that she would be his mother. He had been a newborn when he was brought to her, Thor only a year of age, leaving them close in age. The two, she imagined, would be inseparable in their later years.

"Does that bother you?"

She looks at him, staring at him. She knows he'll think her foolish if she tells him that the thought makes her feel old and yet very excited. To hold her grandchild is a moment she had only let cross her mind when she had discovered that the marriage and love between Sigyn and Loki was palpable.

"No," she says, smiling at him. In her mind, she already has a grandchild with Hel. The small girl had been taken on so readily by Sigyn that it caused Frigga to recall her first encounter with Loki and how she had adopted him without consideration.

"Were you disappointed when she told you that-"

"No," she says quickly. She had felt worse for the girl who had been subjected to false hope.

"And what of him?"

"He was fine with it." They remain quiet, Frigga looking over her husband, realizing how old they've both become. "I think he loves her," she says, matching his gaze.

"I'm not as sure."

"Watch them at the feasts," she says softly. "He's as loyal to her as she is to him."

Only once had her son let it slip that he might bear any feelings to the girl. It had come only a few months before the wedding of Sigyn to Theoric and it was that moment which had led Frigga to not be surprised that Loki had taken Theoric's place. He had slunk over to her, finding where she tended the flowers that grew in her garden. There had been guilt in his eyes when he came to her. It had been the first time in years that he sought her help and she'd been thrilled, eager to help him. Yet, she could only tell him her advice when he told her his problem.

She had nodded and held back a sly smile when he first spoke his concerns. He asked her what his father had given to her as a gift. He had phrased it though it were out of curiosity, that he had a disagreement with Thor over the answer. She had seen it in his eyes though and knew because all mothers know when their children are trying to deceive.

It had been a girl and she had reason then to suspect who it was. It was known that he was tutoring Sigyn in magic when he had the time and she had been the only girl that Frigga had ever seen him remotely close to, to be willing to spend time with.

"Flowers," she had answered, knowing that was what he needed to hear.

He had nodded and turned, keeping up the act that he had been right in his argument with Thor. She had contained the glee, pretending that she believed him. Yet, she had beamed when she saw Sigyn carrying a single rose, the girl wearing a shy smile.

"I assure you, there is more to them than they let be seen," she says, looking at her husband.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>The suggestions made and reviews given remain very much appreciated.


	20. Chapter 20

**20. Vanir**

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><p>Lady Sigyn. That was her title, it was how she was presented at functions and how she was addressed by servants. Only her father had whispered what he deemed the proper title for her. "Princess Sigyn," he had said, in soothing tones when she had been a restless child. She had been raised in her father's fallen court, she had been his second-eldest, his favorite. He had indulged her wish to learn, seeing her instructed and educated.<p>

Her father had lost his kingdom to Odin and the Aesir long before Sigyn and her sisters had been born. Yet, Odin had allowed him to maintain some sense of royalty by letting him keep his court and some ruling so long as he was bound to obey Odin. It had helped that the two had a history of mingling blood, that Aesir had resided in the Vanir court and that Vanir had gone to the Aesir court. Yet, it had not been enough to let her father maintain his royal titles, losing them and becoming the equivalent of a noble in the Aesir court.

She had been a child when she approached her father with the request that she go the court of the Aesir. She had seen the sadness take over his gray gaze, he only made a single attempt to have her reconsider but she cited her reasons plainly for her father. She sought more knowledge, she knew that the place to find it was hidden away in the libraries of Asgard.

She did not say that she had seen a glimpse of her future then, that she knew she had to be in the Aesir court for her future to play out. She had seen the boys who would dwell in her dreams, two young dark haired sons that she instinctively knew to be her own.

He had arranged for her to be taken to the Aesir court, the nursemaid Arnbjorg accompanying her, told to watch her and keep her safe. With time with the Aesir, she sought to be a healer and found her free time spent in the gardens. She became a favorite of the queen who would be the one to set in motion her future that she had never tried to read into. She had remained content at knowing her future involved two sons, she had never bothered consider who might be the father.

And when she realized she had fallen in love, kneeling over his fallen form, on the verge of tears, she had realized who it would be. The same green eyes and dark hair from her dreams was before her, and on his face a grin. She had turned away, crying and furious. She had analyzed her dreams, needing to know her future, needing to see where it all fell into place before going to him after they had parted on awkward terms. And, yet, she had forgotten all about it when he kissed her.

He holds her closer to him, kissing her. She knows that he thinks he knows everything about her, that he understands her so completely, but he does not know she can see the future. She imagines that it must have crossed his mind once or twice, he had, after all, understood where she had come from and what her origins were, but she had never breathed a word of knowing the future. And he had never inquired.

She has seen many insignificant things and a few that captured her and made her focus. She had seen something of Hel's future and while she sought to know everything, the future could not be controlled, it could not be ordered to give up its secrets.

It is a pounding at the door that causes him to pull away from her, drifting to his work while she steps closer to the door.

"Come," he says, settling in front of a text, flipping through the pages. The frown he wears deepens when Arnbjorg comes in and smiles at Sigyn.

"Your sister, Lady Unnr has arrived and was seeking you."

Sigyn smiles, glancing at her husband who kept his back to them, more in a refusal to look at Arnbjorg than at Sigyn. "Go," he says. She steps over to him, kissing his cheek, whispering her promises in his ear, watching the smirk return.

She follows Arnbjorg from the room. "When did she arrive?"

"This morning. She, however, had other business to attend to before she could seek you out."

"Has Mother finally decided to allow her to leave home?"

"She is to be married to a noble of the Aesir."

Sigyn stops suddenly causing Arnbjorg to look back at her. She wants to say that she is too young but bites back on the idea. At her sister's age she had already decided what she wanted. "When did Mother arrange this?"

"She did so as of late, I believe. I only found out recently myself."

Sigyn sighs, following Arnbjorg to where her sister has been temporarily housed until she is wed. She finds her blonde haired sister examining the jewels that were no doubt a betrothal gift.

"Sister," Unnr shouts, letting the necklace fall from her fingers and land on the table with a clatter. She ran to her sister, throwing her thin arms around her. "The princess consort." She smiles.

Sigyn fights the scowl that threatens to appear. While everyone around her had been set on breaking her marriage, only her mother had defended the idea of their marriage. She had been the one who demanded that Odin not bend laws so that he could end the marriage between Sigyn and Loki. Though, her reasons had not been quite so pure. Her mother had seen the end of her husband's court, been stripped of her title of Queen and made into a common noble's wife who had little to her name than a few jewels and a gift to see into the future. She had been pleased at the idea that one of her daughters had found a way to reclaim the royalty that had been taken from their family.

"You are to be married."

"Yes," Unnr nods frantically, still grinning like a girl. "Mother has been arranging this marriage since Father died." She pulls her sister to sit down beside her. "Tell me about you. It's been ages."

"There isn't much to tell."

"What is it like being married to a prince?"

"Quite boring."

"It cannot be. He is a prince." She frowns, looking at Sigyn, studying her. "Do you not love him?"

"No, I love him," Sigyn says, smiling. "They just do not expect much from the wife of a prince. Other than that she bear him sons."

"Are you-?"

"No." After one such lie, Sigyn would prefer not going down the same road. "But the All-Father has made it clear what he expects from his son's wife."

Unnr touches her elder sister's hand and the two sit there. They had always been different, Sigyn thinks. Unnr had been more like their mother, while she had begged her father to let her learn. She had wanted to be free of marriage, an option that their mother insisted was the only life for them. And yet, she realizes, the irony was she had wed the kind of man her mother had only dreamed one of her daughters might marry.

"When will you be married?" Sigyn asks, a smile resurfacing.

"Soon. They said within days of my coming." She glances at her sister and eyes suddenly widening. "I have something for you."

Before Sigyn can speak, Unnr has leapt up and is holding out the necklace she had been looking at earlier.

It is a simple thing that Sigyn takes into her hand. A series of blue stones had been carved into teardrop shapes and arranged in a manner that reminded Sigyn of falling rain. "It's very beautiful."

"I feel terrible for missing your wedding. As does Mother, she wishes she would have attended."

"Thank you." Sigyn hugs her.

"This is all very exciting." Unnr grins. Sigyn can't help but feel a twinge of sorrow at her sister's willingness to be married so quickly.

The two become inseparable in the days leading up to Unnr's wedding. Sigyn guides her sister through customs and introductions to those who she should know. She takes it upon her self to see her sister ready for court, though she realizes she will spend very little time there. Her husband is more soldier than noble and Sigyn wonders why her mother, her ambitious mother, would have allowed that to happen. Unnr's wedding will be smaller than her own, the novelty of a former Vanir princess marrying had worn away quickly after the disaster of Sigyn's wedding.

In the evening, she falls into bed, tired of being followed. Unnr does not leave her alone and is amused by the presence of Hel who calls her elder sister mother. Loki sits beside her while she presses her face into the pillow. "Remember when I wish we might have married in better circumstances?" She asks, voice muffled.

"Yes."

"I take it back. I take it all back." She grips at the pillow, frustration at having to make most of the arrangements that her mother had accidentally, though she didn't believe it, forgotten to do or mention. "I am thankful they arranged everything, that it was all out of my hands and I didn't have to consider any of this nonsense."

When she looks at him, he brushes back the hair that falls in her face. "Nonsense?"

"It would bore you to tears to listen to what I've had to endure."

He doesn't tell her that while she's been away and has taken Hel with her, he's been considering seeking out Angrboda. He wants to know why she didn't try to tell him about Hel, why she abandoned the girl. He's almost settled on going, that he just needs a time when Sigyn isn't bothered by the wedding, when he can slip away unnoticed.

"I would still like to hear," he says, laying next to her, smiling. When she raises an eyebrow, seriously doubting his sincerity, he adds, "I've been having trouble falling asleep, surely your story could with that."

She laughs, inching over towards him before telling him the more exciting moments of her time with Unnr, many of which involve embarrassing slip-ups of her sister's tongue.

* * *

><p>He's there at the wedding, Hel close beside him, asking why she couldn't be with Sigyn. Thor is there as a result of Odin being the one who will wed them. Where his biggest struggle is explaining why the girl cannot be with Sigyn, Thor looks indigent that he had to attend at all. The elder prince didn't have the patience for such events, struggling to be interested when Sigyn was wed, though he continued to counter that was due to the fact that he had been searching the crowd for Loki. With this wedding, Thor keeps Loki in his sights, unsure of what he might try this time.<p>

Sigyn has been fixing and adjusting the veil that her sister thought would be best. She finally smiles when her work is done, thankful that it is done.

Unnr hugs her sister, glad to see her sister wearing the necklace she brought. "May I have your blessing?" She asks, still jittery, like a young girl, Sigyn notes.

"You have it." She kisses her sister's cheek. "You have always had it."

"I wish I may have a marriage like yours." She touches her sister's hands. "You seem so happy."

"I am sure your marriage will be far better than mine."

Sigyn takes her place by him when the marriage plays out. She is frustrated to see her sister married off at her young age. She wonders what her mother sought to gain from the marriage. He sees the cheerfulness slip from her features, taking her hand when she sighs. She leans against his arm, wishing that her sister might have all the happiness in the world. She fears Unnr will need it, unsure of the ruddy faced man beside her sister. When the guests are trailing the bride and groom to where the feast is held, he keeps hold of her hand, slowing her pace until they are the very last to leave. He kisses her, smiling at her, wishing he knew how to dispel the melancholy in her eyes.

And while she clasps onto his arm, entwining their fingers, returning his smile, Thor simply stares. In his quest to find where his brother may have slipped off to, he stands, all words escaping him at the sight. Before they can see him, he slips away, left to re-write what he had previously thought of them and add more unanswered questions.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>If you haven't heard the song, Somebody I Used To Know by Gotye, I suggest you do so.


	21. Chapter 21

**21. Twin**

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><p>Sigyn is amused when Hel is disappointed following her sister's wedding, feeling that the ceremony has impeded on her budding friendship with Unnr. During the days when Sigyn had been relentlessly followed, the girl had taken amusement in Sigyn's sister who had not been against doing juvenile things with the child.<p>

"May we visit her?"

"I'm afraid we may not yet," Sigyn says. "She has only just married. It is customary to allow the bride and groom some privacy before busying them with visitors."

It is a custom, she thinks, she was not given the privilege of having. With Loki's unusual style of proposal and matrimony, they had been not left alone for weeks. Whether it came in the people's outbursts in their presence or simply being followed, there had always been someone there, staring them down, watching for the slip. She knew what they had wanted. Either a sight of her in tears or him shouting at her would have sufficed to prove to the masses that their marriage was what they had suspected all along: one steeped in anger, regret and misery. Of course, she had become frustrated to the point of hiding away in their room, trying to attain some time that she might be alone with him and a chance to grasp what exactly had happened. Those around had been left to speculate what had gone on between the two newlyweds to cause such a thing, before she finally reappeared for a festival, very selective in her choice of attire. Whereas pastel shades had been the usual choice for her attire, she had emerged wearing a gown of emerald and black. While the others had gawked, he had laughed.

Hel frowns, crossing her arms. This, Sigyn knows, is only adding to the disappointment of the child. The girl had not been pleased when she had not found him there, Sigyn only able to offer speculation, reasoning for Hel that he had been suddenly called away.

"When may we?"

"Soon. I promise."

This contents the child for a little but there is still frustration engrained in her features. It only softens when Sigyn pulls the child close to her and suggests the two continue with reading. Hel pulls the book towards her and reads what she can, pointing to the occasional word that seems to defy all rules of pronunciation.

He does not return for two days and it is Sigyn who sets about keeping Hel from worrying. She watches the child pace, unease coursing through her veins. More often than not, she scoops up the child, assuring her that he will return, that he has been gone for far longer without warning. Often, this placates her, but at moments it is not enough.

On the verge of tears at one point, Hel stares at her mother. "Why does he do it?"

She brushes back the child's hair. "It is simply his nature." She wipes away the first tear that ventures down the girl's cheek. "He has always been like this." Bringing the girl into her arms, Sigyn recounts the earliest time she could recall him doing so. Of course, the story she gives has the fairytale element. She knows that not doing so will only lead the child to be more frustrated since the reasoning behind why he would leave, taking reckless journeys that he would return from with some new wound, is harder to understand without the context. The man who had lied most struggled to see truth in anyone else's words. He had been no different with her, staring, eyebrows knit together, as he tried to see if she were leading him on, if it would turn out to be one big joke. Patience and understanding had been the winning elements that had kept her from shouting at him, telling him that he shouldn't always be so suspicious. Such patience had made him trust her, take her word and begin their relationship.

Hel only nods after the story and Sigyn is relieved to see her no longer crying.

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><p>He returns in the night, drenched and with company. She sits with Hel, telling the girl stories that she remembers hearing as a child. They are often legends, filled with fantastical circumstances and heroes who hold no flaws. It is coincidence that she reaches the point of the hero returning when he comes in.<p>

Hel is out of bed before Sigyn can say anything, hugging him and turning her attention to the two additional presences, her face breaking out in a wide, youthful grin.

Sigyn rises, eyeing up the two boys who follow him. He steps over to her, touching her face. "Do not hate me," he begins tentatively. She can hear the break in his voice, the fear.

"Who are they?" She asks, glancing between him and the boys who Hel has wrapped up in a hug.

"Hel's brothers," he says quietly. When she only raises an eyebrow, he sighs, feeling resigned to continue the story he hadn't wanted to tell. "I went to Angrboda and brought them back." He tries to keep it at that, to not mention the resignation he had met with the woman, the irritation that had filled her voice when she had spoken to him. The moment he was angry with her, claiming she had abandoned the girl only to be told that she had been placing the child into his care. When he tried to counter her, she silenced him when she asked if he did or did not have Hel. And the moment when he'd seen the boys, peering around the corner, trying to understand what was going on. His heart had sank and guilt overcame him. She had let them go with him, telling them that they would be better in their father's care, that he had their sister. The mention of Hel had made them go willingly and as he set off with the two children, he had not seen the relief that had come over Angrboda. For a single tryst, she had been left with three children who stood as reminders, forced penance.

There is a shared resemblance between the three and a general sense of glee at being reunited. While Hel clings to her brothers, they repeat how glad they are to see her.

He looks at her, flinching. He is prepared for the anger that he knows is lurking behind her eyes. Not one child, no, three. He is placing upon her the task of raising three of his children. He needs her to pretend to be their mother, to be accepting of them, to raise them like they were hers.

She steps past him, kneeling before the three who are still caught in the excitement of their reunion. Hel beams when she introduces them, knowing exactly how to distinguish between the two boys who appear to be each other's duplicate.

"Fenrir and Jormungandr," she says. When the boys eye her wearily, Hel steps over and hugs Sigyn's arm. She knows that Hel will have to be her advocate, that it will be their sister who will help her win their trust.

The boys nod, looking at Hel rather than Sigyn. She smiles at them, realizing it will not be as easy as Hel. She can only imagine what he did to return with them. Though whether it was his taking of them or them being pushed upon him, she isn't sure.

"I'll talk to them." It is a whisper from Hel, spoken close to Sigyn's ear. The girl pulls away from Sigyn's arm, returning to her brothers. When Sigyn steps back to Loki, she can hear the story beginning, the explanation that Hel is sure will win them over. While they are quick to discuss in low tones, she returns to him.

He has not moved and she can see the hurt in his eyes, the worry. She touches his cheek, kissing him. She knows he over thinks, goes too far into analyzing and ends up agonizing over things that should not have been given a second thought. When there is still panic hidden in his eyes, she smiles. "We can make it work."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> College is college.


	22. Chapter 22

**22. Explanation**

* * *

><p>The explanation that Arnbjorg receives is less than informative. She is told that they were found. "Like Hel," Sigyn says, ignoring the doubtful look that she is given.<p>

With Hel's support, Sigyn has taken on a better image in the boys' eyes. They no longer cast looks of suspicion upon her, speaking more than single word answers to her. They had begun to look her in the eyes soon after Hel spoke to them much to her amazement.

"I cannot believe it was the same," Arnbjorg says to her, watching as the three children sit on the floor, talking amongst themselves. It is eerie to the matron, watching how comfortable they are with each other, noting the likeness they all share.

"Trust me," Sigyn says, smiling.

Arnbjorg struggles to. She fears that the time her former-ward has spent with him has warped the girl, changed her. Once, she could take everything the child say without doubt, but with time she fears that the innocence has been lost and she has developed into a liar of her own right.

"Perhaps, you hadn't noticed," Arnbjorg says slowly. "But they do bear a certain resemblance to him. Almost," she has to pause, sharply inhaling, her voice a whisper, "as though they were his children."

"Oh?" Sigyn asks, swallowing back the wry remarks. "And if they were?"

Arnbjorg blanches, staring at the innocent, shining gray eyes. "You don't mean-"

"Promise me you won't breathe a word of this."

"How can-? With who-? When?" Arnbjorg sputters, seeing the glaring resemblance of the three. With only the girl, it had been easier to ignore, but with boys who can easily be seen as her brothers, the features are brought out. Boys, she thinks, always do look the most like their fathers.

"Does it matter? They are ours now."

"But-"

"Please?" There is an edge to her voice, startling Arnbjorg who grew used to the demur whispers. "The court dislikes him enough, they don't need to know this."

Her lips press into a thin line as she glances between Sigyn and the children. "And do you love them?"

Sigyn smiles. "Completely."

* * *

><p>The boys have an aptitude for shapeshifting. Sigyn realizes it when she comes in and catches them in the process of changing. Hel grins at her while the two hastily turn back.<p>

"That's very impressive," Sigyn says, stepping forward, smiling.

"It is nothing special," Jormungandr says, averting his gaze suddenly.

She sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm still impressed."

The boys exchange wary glances. Hel comes over to Sigyn's side, beaming at her brothers. Sigyn whispers close to Hel's ear, "Why don't you go see if Father has something for you to work on?" She pushes back the dark hair that falls into Hel's eyes.

She stares at Sigyn before nodding. "Of course."

Sigyn smiles when Hel leaves the room, glancing back to the boys. "Please, come here," she says, holding out her hand. Hesitantly, they walk to her, stopping short of standing too close. "I realize this is strange," she says, searching their green eyes. "But we all face a point at which life is difficult and new."

They nod, looking up at her. The look that echoes in their gaze makes her reach out, touching their shoulders. The touch draws them closer, their gaze focusing on her.

"I wish everything could be simple, but it cannot." She sighs, wishing it could be as easy as it had been with Hel. The child had been quick to accept her, to embrace her. Yet, these boys had been separated from their mother in a different way. A separation, she assumes, that had been complex and damaging.

"Hel says you were kind to her."

"Yes."

"She says you would be kind to us."

"Yes."

There is a pause and Sigyn is foolish enough to think that they will come easily for a moment. Yet, the next words break her heart. "She doesn't know he is our father, does she?"

"No," she says, trying to find a way to tell them apart. Hel seems the only one gifted in knowing what makes them different. For all of Sigyn's searching, she can only find more things that make them similar, their posture, the messiness of their hair, the questioning in their eyes.

"Why didn't he come before?"

"He didn't know before." She folds her hands in her lap. "He came for you once he knew."

They stare at her and she see the hurt that lingers behind verdant eyes. She knows there will be no forgiveness, at least, not yet. In their eyes, they were abandoned, forsaken by their father. She can imagine that a mother who felt abandoned by the man who had fathered the children might tell them so, would want them to feel so. She had once seen an angry mistress, caring for her lover's child, wanting only for him to recognize the child. He never had and it had enraged the woman who had raised the child to spite him. Sigyn's shoulders slump as she takes in the boys, hoping that there can be forgiveness.

"We won't tell Hel." Both boys nod and she smiles weakly. And then they are quiet again. She looks between them while they stare at her, analyzing her, measuring her up to the stories they had been told. Hel had been trying to convince them that she was kind and they had believed their sister, yet they still had their doubts.

"I would wish that you both be comfortable here," she says, breaking the silence. "This is your home now."

"And you are our new mother?"

She stopped herself from wincing at the words. "If you would like me to be," she answered tactfully.

They nod at this and exchange glances. She wonders for a moment if they aren't testing her. "All right."

Sigyn smiles, left speculating on exactly what they mean.

* * *

><p>The word around court is nothing positive. She hears the gossip, the whispers that two more orphans have been taken in. How they heard, she does not know. They had been careful to keep the boys from attention, trying to mend the family that had been established. Yet, when she passes the women she had once associated with, she notices how they stare, whispering behind their hands. It is the same as when she took in Hel, there is the same speculation that she will have no children of her own, that a loveless marriage has created a woman who is too willing to take on the children of others.<p>

The only person whom she tells is Frigga. The elder woman was quiet when she heard the news, glancing up at her daughter-in-law only when she had finished. She had been taken aback by the sad look in the woman's eyes, the pity that the woman tried to hide. And she knew that she had taken the rumors into consideration. Three children, none of them hers, seemed an indication that no children would be had. Combined with the false notion that she had given Odin, she seemed a likely candidate to be hiding a greater, more hurting truth.

"I will tell Odin," had been all Frigga said. True to her word, she had and Sigyn couldn't imagine how the conversation had gone. She didn't want to imagine what had been said. She only saw the quick glances that Odin gave her, the frown he wore when he looked at her directly.

She sinks into the couch beside him, glad to be away from the people who would stare at her as though she was a marvel to be studied. He sets the text on his lap aside, wrapping his arm around her, bringing her closer.

"What is it?" He asks when she settles against him, resting her head against his chest.

"Nothing," she says.

"It is never nothing with you."

"It is this time." She closes her eyes, believing for a second that, if she tried hard enough, she might wish the world away. "The children are with Arnbjorg. If Hel's running off doesn't kill her, the boys shifting between forms will."

He laughs. "They seem quite taken with you."

"I have that effect," she says, a smile on her lips.


	23. Chapter 23

**23. Adventure**

* * *

><p>They had said it would be fine, fun really, and that she shouldn't be so nervous. It hadn't been slipping from their caretaker's watchful gaze that had Hel eyeing them suspiciously, it was what they said they intended to do once they had gotten away.<p>

She had often explored inside, venturing until she stumbled across the library and other rooms that had gotten her swift reprimands from Arnbjorg. What they proposed though, was going outside, exploring the grounds, exploring past the safety of the gardens. Inside, there were always people to direct her back when she found herself in an unfamiliar hall with no notion of how to go back. Outside, she knew there wouldn't be such a guarantee.

Yet, they lead her away, both smiling, wanting to see the place they have been told to call home. And she goes with them.

They wind through the gardens, reflecting on what they can. They talk about what they've learned in their days at suddenly being part of court, of lessons they need to be learning.

"I like it here," Hel says quietly, holding onto Fenrir's hand.

"It's nice," Jormagandr quietly agrees, glancing over at Fenrir. They silently struggle with him. While they've been won over by her, all it took was her kindness with their sister, he is a different matter. There is the grudge that lingers, what their mother told them still rings in their ears. They struggle to forget that, they can't, remembering the way their mother had been so angry with anything that could remind her of him, always reciting that he had abandoned them.

They do not consider themselves lost until Fenrir and Jormagandr begin to glance at each other, realizing that neither of them has really been keeping track of where they've been going. Hesitantly, they glance at their sister.

She catches their gaze and any fond feelings for this adventure slip away. "We're lost, aren't we?" Her voice is quiet and the nod the two boys give her make her hang her head. "I knew we shouldn't have-"

"It shouldn't be hard to go back. Maybe if we just," Fenrir says, turning, suddenly overwhelmed how everything looks the same. "Maybe not."

"We shouldn't have done this," Hel repeats, reaching for Jormagandr's hand. They hadn't told a soul where they were going, simply slipping away from Arnbjorg and going off. They hadn't considered lost as an option. Well, she corrects herself, they hadn't but she had and she'd let them assure her that they wouldn't be going far."

"As long as we stay here," Jormagandr says, staying firmly rooted in place. "They can find us."

"But we didn't tell them where to look," Hel insists, realizing what terrible influences her brothers are. "How will they know where to find us when we didn't say where to look?"

"Well, they aren't going to think that we just wandered off to Jotunheim." Jormagandr sits on the ground, looking at his siblings. "It's best if we just wait here."

Hel sits beside him, leaving Fenrir to stalk to the area, glancing around. "I'm sure that we could find the way back. We just need-"

"Let's wait here," Jormagandr repeats. And Fenrir falls onto the ground beside him, frowning.

* * *

><p>"Have you seen them?" She asks, glancing at him from the doorway to the library.<p>

"Seen who?" He looks up suddenly, caught off-guard.

"The children." She comes to stand beside him, her hand on his shoulder as she looks at what he's been reading. "They escaped from Arnbjorg and she's been frantic."

"What made you think that I might be with them?"

"Who else would enjoy ruining someone's day?" She looks back at him.

"Well, I haven't seen them." He watches the smile slip from her face. "What is it?"

"Arnbjorg has been checking everywhere. I thought-" She turns sharply on her heel and he's following her, trying to keep up.

* * *

><p>He fails to realize that she's barefoot, though he suspects that it's because he expects it of her, until they are crossing through the gardens into the woods. The sun is setting and with the passing time he sees her nerves wearing. She's frightened and he realizes he is too.<p>

"We should split up," she says, stopping.

He nods, taking a different direction, wishing he might have stayed with her. So rarely does she let her emotions surface where anyone can see. And yet here he sees her on the verge of tears, a terrified look in her eyes that he does not know why he would agree to leave her alone.

She winds around trees, searching for any sign of them. She doesn't look back to see where he went, only listening for his voice, for any voice really, for him to shout that he's found the children.

And her heart stops before she does, worry mingling with a smile. Jormagandr sits next to Hel, while Fenrir, she's sure that it's him, in the form of a wolf is curled around them. She stumbles towards them when Jormagandr looks at her, his own smile appearing.

"I told you," he says, nudging Fenrir. Hel leaps at her, gripping at Sigyn.

"You're safe," she says, hugging Hel and reaching out to the boys. Fenrir changes back and he and Jormagandr join in the embrace. "Never, never do that again."

"Where is Father?" Hel asks, looking around.

"We separated to find you quicker." She stands, taking Hel into her arms when the child is reluctant to leave her. "We should tell him you're safe."

"Are we in trouble?" Fenrir asks as they march through the woods, the boys trailing behind her.

"Yes." She says, coming to the edge of the woods before setting down Hel. "But that can be discussed later." She stares at the boys. "Stay here."

Both the boys nod, standing guard over their sister. She steps into the woods and no more than a few steps, she calls his name and he's there within seconds. "You found them?"

She smiles, nodding. She takes his hand, pulling him to follow, dragging him to where they stand. His features soften for a second before he frowns, reiterating that they are in trouble.

Later that night when the three have been put to bed, left to contemplate what they've done, he holds her when she cries into his shoulder, the unnerving panic still fresh in her mind.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I give you an update. And a reminder that college essays are not as fun to write.


	24. Chapter 24

**24. Worry**

* * *

><p>Frigga enjoys the time spent with Sigyn, often seeking her company. She finds the girl interesting, always clever. She does not doubt that this is what made her appeal to her son because as reserved and meek as she is in court, privately she has unbounded wit. She also, Frigga knows, understands her son in a way that she never will. She is the one who he goes to, speaks to, interacts without hesitation. She has seen them since they were wed always so casual with each other. Once, she came across them in the library, Sigyn holding one of his spell books to her chest, gripping it for dear life while he tried to pry her fingers away, her assuring him he could have it back the minute he promised to dance with her. She had left before seeing if he had agreed, if he had relented. But she believes that he did because that girl was one of the few who he would listen to.<p>

She waits on balcony, staring out, waiting for her daughter-in-law to come, or for the servant to return with news. With Sigyn, Frigga realizes, the likelihood of a message of regrets is fifty percent. The young woman hardly ever cites a reason but she suspects it is the children. She knows they are a handful for her daughter-in-law, who takes the task of raising them fully upon herself.

"My Queen."

Frigga turns, smiling broadly. "Sigyn, I thought we were past such formalities."

"I always forget." She is caught in Frigga's hug. "What is it you wished to see me about?"

"I wished to know how you are, how the children are." She releases Sigyn and the younger woman wanders towards the railing, her fingers running over the cool stone.

"I am fine." She leans her elbows on the railing, staring at the city that stretches out beneath her. "The children are fine, though they miss him terribly."

Frigga rests her hand on her daughter-in-law's when she sees the girl's gray eyes grow misty. "They were promised to return soon."

"I know."

She looks at the younger woman's face, focusing on the dark lines that are faint beneath her eyes. "You do not look well."

Sigyn is quiet for a moment, biting on her lip. "I will sleep better when he is back."

Frigga sighs, patting Sigyn's hand, focusing on the horizon. "To always worry and wait, such is the burden of a wife." She can remember the days when she would wait for Odin's return, how she had begun to lose her patience when the days he told her he would be back by came and went. That dread had been multiplied when the boys had been around for she never wanted to consider that one day she might have to tell them that their father wasn't coming back. And the day when Odin had taken them with him, she had shut herself away, crying and inconsolable.

"I know." The girl shuts her eyes and Frigga sighs.

"I am sure they are simply delayed." When she meets the gray eyes, she sees the dread she once had. "And they will return very soon."

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>Frigga smiles at them when they return, stepping over towards her husband who returns the smile. They have seen enough of these to both understand protocol, he clasps at her hand and she lightly kisses his cheek. She glances at her sons, watching Thor be surrounded by his friends, discussing everything that has transpired, noticing how Loki stalks off, going to the edge of the crowds where Sigyn stands.<p>

Loki approaches her, embracing her away from the throngs of those who seek to praise his brother and father. She touches his face, kissing him and smiling. The lines from lack of sleep are hidden under spells and powder, her hair pulled back, hiding the messy state of it. The dread is gone from Sigyn's eyes, replaced with a lighter fear, one that mingles between excitement and worry. As they stand, smiling at each other, the world moving around them, she whispers to him, his smile freezing. And no one -because why would they bother to glance over at a second-born son when the eldest should be the one who is praised and receive all their attention- sees his knees go weak.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Sorry it's a short update, but it needed to be broken apart from the next bit.


	25. Chapter 25

**25. Fear**

* * *

><p>And they tell no one, opting to hold onto their secret as long as they can. They decide against telling the children, figuring that they will be informed when everyone else is, since the risk that one of them could let it slip is highly likely though it won't be intentional.<p>

He is pacing around the room while she sits before a small mirror, preparing for the celebration that has been hastily arranged for the return of the warriors. She is finishing getting ready, already having the children safely put into Arnbjorg's care after deciding to not relive the past in which Fenrir and Jorgamandr attempted to frighten people by displaying exactly how good they were at shape shifting.

"We can't hide it forever," she says, pulling back her hair, twisting it, attempting to a style that appears remotely fashionable without being difficult.

"I know," he says, coming to her side, kissing her. The words of his father still ring in his ears months after they were spoken. His father would want them to have children, for there to be a line of succession, and this frightens him. He doesn't want to imagine his father's expectations, the weight that will placed on this situation. "But let's stay like this for as long as possible."

She rests her hand on his cheek. "What are you afraid of?"

"Everything."

"We'll be fine." She lets go of him, reaching for a thin necklace to wear. When she struggles with the clasp, he takes it from her hands, quickly clasping the necklace. She smiles at him. "We have time to prepare."

He escorts her to the celebration, keeping her hand tightly held in his own. When the people she calls friends come by her, trying to persuade her away, his grip tightens. But she eases her hand from his, kisses his cheek when they've turned their backs and whispers, "I'll be fine. I promise."

He reluctantly lets her go without a fight. He watches her laugh with them, be pleasant. He fights back fears that rise like bile. He fears he will be a terrible father, that caring for three children with Sigyn has only emphasized his flaws, that good intentions aren't enough. And there is the nagging reminder that he is expected to have sons, expected to be the one who will provide an heir because he is the one who is married, he who is the family's disappointment. It terrifies him that this assumption will be placed on his children, because he knows in his heart that any child of his will be associated with his father's flaws, and he cannot imagine what his father will want of this child, considered another heir in the line of succession.

But only they know now, he thinks, watching how she casual she is with the other women, speaking with them so easily. He wishes it could stay that way, that no one would ever have to know, save for the children. That they might be able to hide themselves away, keep a basic family life that wasn't dictated by royal regulations. The life Sigyn led, the life she described to him once when she had to heal him, seems so much nicer than the one he's known. Her father was so much closer to her and her sisters, their mother close. They had been a tight family unit despite problems, growing up without concerns.

"But what about an heir?" He'd asked.

"My father didn't consider it." She shrugged. "There were more important things. Of course, when the time came, it was who wanted it. None of us really wanted it so Fridr and her husband took it."

He remains on edge until she leaves them, slipping quietly back to the place beside him, letting him take her hand. "I told you I would be fine," she says, gray eyes sparkling.

"I know." He trusts her but he doesn't trust them. He has as much faith in their promises as they have in his. "I would like it if we left."

"All right," she says, letting him lead her away. When they are past sight, he wraps his arm around her, feeling the need to ensure that no harm will come to her, the idea that he has to protect her already taking a forefront in his mind. She is skilled enough to defend herself, he knows, but instinctively he keeps her pressed against his side.

They see the children, she insisting that she'll put them to bed instead of Arnbjorg. He doesn't involve himself, staying back, letting her go to the boys, kissing their foreheads. And while Sigyn is answering their nonsense questions, all in a matter of staying awake past their curfew, Hel is the one who comes and hugs him. Taken a little aback, he hesitates before returning the embrace. The little girl scampers back to where Sigyn sits with the boys, coerced into telling a story that Jormagandr and Fenrir interrupt on occasion with their own commentary.

Later that night, when it has returned to just being them, he sits in his thoughts while she has already fallen asleep. He lets himself toy with the idea of leaving in the night, leaving Asgard for good to take up residence among the Vanir. The stories of Sigyn's childhood still sit in his mind and when he compares them to his childhood, he is left wondering if he could let his children endure a similar life.

He is debating how he could bring up the idea when she slides up against him, sleep lining her voice. "What are you thinking about?" She leans her head against his shoulder, eyes closed.

"Nothing." He lets the idea go. "Go back to sleep."

"I can't sleep." Even in her drowsing state, she smiles. "It's too cold."

"You go back to bed, I'll be there soon enough."

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"Sigyn-"

"I know you," she says with a sigh. "You're going to sit here until dawn thinking about things you shouldn't worry about." There is a sharp pause and he wants to believe she's drifted back off to sleep. "Is this about the baby?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Loki." She turns and touches his face, letting her fingers rest against his cheek. "It's all going to be fine. We're managing just fine with Hel and the boys right now. Granted a baby will be more work but we can do it." She kisses him. "Do not let what's happened before worry you so much."

"I'll try."

"Good." She rises, tugging at his hand. "Now come along." He follows her, letting her press against his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

"Sigyn?" He whispers into her hair.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever thought about leaving Asgard?"

"Once or twice. Why?"

"What do you think of leaving?"

"I don't think it would work out."

"Why not?"

"Your family is here, Loki. Some of my family is here. To leave here is to leave that family behind." She sighs. "I don't think it would be wise."


	26. Chapter 26

**26. Secret**

* * *

><p>She curses Frigga's attention to detail, how the woman seems to notice every minute detail. So she sits there, smiling and attempting to devise an answer to the so innocently posed question without revealing her agitation.<p>

"Are you quite well dear? You don't look well. Is something wrong?"

They had done well for several months, neither of them had breathed a word of it. She had done whatever she could to hide it, going so far as to talk down the sudden behavior change that had overtaken her husband. His newfound protectiveness, his inability to allow her to be alone had drawn some attention, but she had dismissed it. She had downplayed it all, made it seem as though it were a simple turn in their marriage, not her husband's worries getting the better of him. They had done so well, she thinks, forcing a smile.

"I'm quite well," Sigyn says.

She pales when Frigga raises a suspicious eyebrow. "If you say so." And then she relaxes, assuming that she's ended that. They continue casually talking, the queen turning the conversation to be about the children. This makes Sigyn tense. "And how are they managing with their studies?"

"Quite well. Hel is intrigued by the healing arts while Fenrir and Jormagandr have already decided that they intend to master magic." She laughs. "They challenged that they will be better than Loki in no time. And his response was to temporarily debilitate their magic."

The two women share smiles. "That explains their sulking."

"It was only for a day but to them it was forever."

She's wondered if their child will be inclined toward magic. The odds, she thinks, should be high. They are both skilled somehow with sorcery so it would be natural to assume that their child will be too. Yet, Hel and the boys have proven to be an example of how wrong she may be. While Hel has not shown a sign of having skills in that area, the boys have it as almost second nature to them.

"They rely too much on it," Frigga says, fingers curling around the goblet with wine in it. Her voice is quiet when she bridges topics. "Have you considered having other children?" She takes a sip of wine, meeting Sigyn's eyes.

And Sigyn threatens to pale. There is knowing in those blue eyes, she realizes, and why shouldn't there be? She is talking to a woman who has had her own children, who has assisted those who have born children before. Of course she would notice, Sigyn thinks.

"We have." Her fingers trace the designs on the table, her gaze keeping Frigga's. "And we are," she squeaks, just barely saying it. Her mind, already running down the ways she'll explain this to Loki.

The queen lays her hand on Sigyn's, her blue eyes sparkling. "That's wonderful, Dear."

* * *

><p>"They are?"<p>

"Yes," Frigga says, staring at her husband.

He frowns. "Why do you look so concerned? Women have had children before."

"What are the chances that the child will," she says, letting the sentence trail away. She doesn't want to say it. It was something they pushed so far from their minds, something she couldn't accept anymore. No, Loki was her son, completely and utterly. The circumstances of his birth were forgettable and unimportant. But, they weren't, not when it directly concerned others.

"You're afraid the child will bear a resemblance to the fro-"

"Yes," she says quickly, cutting him off. "What are the chances of this? Surely you must have known when you suggested the idea of Loki providing heirs."

"The chances should be quite low."

"Should be?" Frigga leans forward. "I thought you knew."

"Not for certain," he says shrugging off the idea.

And she cannot see how he can be so calm about the matter. It was his idea to never tell Loki, that there was no reason that the matter should come out at all about his origins. Yet, she thinks, here is a great threat to their secret. If the child is born bearing any blue tinge, anything that even remotely resembles a frost giant, it could be a disaster. Frigga fears that this possibility. She can already imagine the outcomes, her son breaking at the news, hating his own child. Her only reassurance is Sigyn who she knows will not falter, who has never faltered. She will love him and their child no matter what. Or, at least, Frigga prays she will.


End file.
